


A Family for Christmas

by AwatereJones



Category: Torchwood
Genre: Angst, At Verse, Christmas Fluff, Family, Love, M/M, Mail Order Brides
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-03
Updated: 2019-12-11
Packaged: 2021-02-26 18:48:26
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 8
Words: 31,145
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21663313
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AwatereJones/pseuds/AwatereJones
Summary: Well that time of year, must be time for another Mail Order Bride? Ianto knows its not for love but out of duty he weds a widower as the children need love and Ianto has so much to give, his own life spent in an orhpanage without a mother. If they accept him as the substitute as they would never accept another woman. And as for the gruff husband ...NO SMUT (8 BIG chaps that would usually be three chaps per so you are getting 24 chaps in three at a time lumps ... aren't you lucky)
Relationships: Jack Harkness/Ianto Jones, The Doctor/River Song
Comments: 49
Kudos: 67





	1. Chapter 1

The train came to a stop. Steam rose over the windows, momentarily obscuring the tiny station as well as the bystanders in a cloud. Ianto squinted, trying to bring his destination into focus.

The aisle filled with passengers eager to disembark.

Ruddy-faced children were shushed as they pulled on their mother's skirts while men secured the luggage. Everyone seemed to be attached to someone.

Ianto looked away from the window, reminding himself that he finally had somebody, too. Even though he'd never seen his destination or even met the people who waited for him, his life was set to begin on the platform of this railway station.

Ianto had noticed a young blonde haired woman travelling alone, just like him in the opposite compartment.

The young woman wore a short jacket with a lacy blouse that buttoned up the back. Her hair was swept back and pinned in a swirl at the nape of her neck. A smart new bonnet was secured to her head with a grosgrain ribbon bow tied under her chin.

Ianto stood and nervously tucked an unruly shirt tail feeling a bit underdressed for the occasion. A quick look down upon his apparel confirmed his suspicions. His shirt was wrinkled from the long ride, and his second-hand shoes unfortunately looked like hand-me-downs.

The thin leather was so worn that no amount of polish would ever make them smooth. Ianto knew he shouldn't snub charity, but today he wanted to look special.

Sister Martha's warm voice filled his thoughts. You are special, just as all people are special. The Gods have a plan for you; trust in them and their judgement.

Ianto brushed his Jacket and straightened his back. Sister Martha was right. Vanity was far less attractive than a wrinkled shirt and well-loved shoes. He had to embrace his new life with a heart as wide-open as the beautiful and wild country he'd travelled through on his way to Boeshane Peninsular.

Ianto got in line. When it was his turn to get off the train, the attendant greeted him with a bright smile, "Here, let me help you, Sir."

Before Ianto could respond, he had his luggage in one hand and was helping him down the iron steps with the other. When he was on the wooden platform, he thanked him and recovered his bag in a trembling fist.

"You look nervous," the older man in a steward's dark blue uniform noted. "You're not getting married to a man you've never met before, are you?"

Ianto almost fell over. "Actually, I…well…"

He laughed and gave him a friendly pat on the shoulder. "Don't worry. Many young men and women come out West searching for something, and most of them find what they're looking for."

Ianto's throat felt tight. He knew it was foolish. The steward was merely making chitchat and meant nothing by it. However, he could do nothing to dampen the hope that swelled in his heart.

"Good luck!" he called out before stepping back up the iron steps to help the next passenger off the train.

"Thank you," Ianto whispered, though he doubted he heard him. His attention was now entirely focused on the next passenger.

Taking a deep breath, he stepped forward. Turning his head quickly from side to side, he scanned the platform for anyone who might respond to the sight of him. He'd received no picture of Jack Harkness, and hadn't sent him one either. He said he didn't care what he looked like, which suited him just fine. Then, he'd said if it mattered to him, he'd arrange to have one taken; however, he preferred saving the money for something more useful.

Ianto had readily agreed with him. But now as he searched the crowd of strangers after his long journey, he wished he could find a familiar face.

A couple suddenly bolted forward from the crowd. Ianto held his breath. He hadn't expected to see a woman accompany the gentleman. What did this mean? Jack Harkness had said he was a widower. Could this be his sister?

A smile grew across the gentleman's face and the couple picked up their pace, coming directly toward him. His face grew warm and his hands felt cold as ice.

Now that they were a couple paces away, Ianto couldn't help but compare himself to the pretty fair haired woman on the man's arm. Though not unseemly, Ianto had never been considered a beauty. Still, he was a hard worker and had a good heart—or at least that was what Sister Martha claimed. Ianto knew many men did not appreciate such hardy qualities, but some did.

Jack Harkness had said he didn't care what he looked like. Had he told the truth?

Suddenly, the woman by the man's side spread out her arms in the universal sign of welcome. Ianto inadvertently felt a tug at his heart despite his confusion. Then, the woman cried out, "Sarah! We are over here!"

Stumbling, Ianto looked over his shoulder and discovered the source of their joy. The well dressed blonde young woman was now behind him. She had lingered to collect her many bags. Ianto watched the young woman's face break into a smile upon hearing a familiar voice and seeing beloved faces. Then young woman rushed past Ianto into the couple's arms. The handsome man held them all in a wide embrace.

In this manner Ianto found himself nearby the sweet reunion. Sarah, the young woman from the train, was probably the woman's sister. She looked so loved. It was a simple observation that contained no envy or malice.

Nonetheless, Ianto felt a pang in his heart for he could only hope one day to experience such an embrace with so much sincerity.

His throat tightened. He felt hot despite the soft rain falling. He wondered if he should loosen the top two buttons of his shirt, but decided against it. Jack Harkness wanted someone dependable; he couldn't appear sloppy.

He glanced once more at the clustered silhouette of the reunited family. Ianto was no more than a bystander. What had possessed him to make such a long journey away from the only home he'd ever known? He knew he couldn't remain at the orphanage forever, but Boeshane Peninsular was so far from New Wales he might as well have travelled to Timbuktu.

Ianto took a deep breath in and slowly blew it out; reminding himself that he had already left this in the lap of the Gods. Life as he knew it had been measured out in teaspoons, to ensure every girl and boy in the orphanage received the same and there was enough for all. This new life he had yet to discover its measure. He must try not to jump to conclusions.

From the corner of his eye, Ianto spied a tall, solid man near the carriages and horses tied at the edge of the station. The man's forehead was furrowed with downcast eyes to avoid the bright sunlight creeping through the clouds. He held the hand of a sandy-haired girl who looked to be the age of ten.

Ianto felt a pang of sympathy for these two. Despite the father's severe countenance, he could tell he was still a young man. No deep lines creased his face and he had a full head of thick, dark hair. The little girl's expression cut him even deeper. Instead of joy, indifference seemed to be wrapped around her tiny shoulders like a shawl. Both of them looked too old and subdued for their ages.

Ianto remembered the distant, sorrowful tone in Jack Harkness' letters. Was this the man he had responded to?

He touched the linen handkerchief in his jacket pocket. He could see the kind chocolate eyes of the five foot bundle of energy that ran the orphanage and heard Sister Martha's words again.

_You are off to get married. Put your best foot forward. No need for a new boot if you have a flounce in your step. Here's a handkerchief for luck and comfort._

Sister Martha's simple wisdom soothed him as much as the smooth handkerchief, the memory of her love and best wishes gave Ianto a surge of strength. Without wavering, Ianto looked into the eyes of the man he knew to be his future husband.

"Ianto Jones?" the man inquired softly.

Ianto answered his question with another, "Jack Harkness?"

He nodded abruptly and reached down for his valise and carpet bag with a long leather strap, and allowed him to carry his own umbrella and private bag.

His future husband offered no words other than his simple greeting. Ianto smiled and gave his attention to the young girl.

"Are you Alice?" he asked. Alice nodded and moved closer to her father.

Ianto's smile deepened. He remembered being Alice's age and hiding in Sister Martha's skirts. "You are very grown up for a nine-year-old girl."

"I'm nearly ten," Alice frowned and insisted in a flat and slightly sharp voice.

"Of course you are. And where is young Jax?" Ianto asked.

Alice pointed towards the station.

A small boy tended to a horse and cart. He pet the horse's long neck even though it was tied, offering the animal comfort amidst the loud and busy station. When the boy looked up, Ianto's throat tightened.

It was Jax. There could be no confusion, for the young boy was the spitting image of his father, only fashioned on a quarter of the scale. He removed a hat that was far too big for a boy but was fitting for a man and wiped his brow.

When Jax caught sight of them approaching, he frowned and Ianto once again found himself the recipient of the inquisitive look he'd received just moments before.

"This is Ianto," Jack told the boy.

Jax nodded once with the intensity of a drill sergeant. "I figured."

Ianto bent over and offered his hand. "Hello, Jax."

"Hello." He reached out and gripped his hand firmly, giving it a sturdy shake. Then, he let go and pointed to his personal bag. "I'll take that."

"Thank you." Ianto couldn't help but smile at the sincere way he went about his business. He must have learned his work ethic from his father.

"Come, I'll help you up," Jack told Ianto. He gripped the side of the wagon with one hand and held up the other, ready to catch him if he should fall.

"Are you alright?" he asked. Ianto nodded furiously, unwilling to appear flustered in front of his fiancé. Too late, he realized as the furrow in Jack's brow deepened. "I thought you said in your letter that you were prepared for work and accustomed to it."

Ianto's mouth dropped open, so shocked at Jack's quick dismissal that for a second he couldn't speak.

"Work at the farm is only going to get harder, especially since its winter," Jack continued.

Well! Ianto crossed his arms over his chest too, mimicking his husband's gesture. "Everyone works together and takes care of one another at the orphanage. I'm well accustomed to hard work, and more than willing to take on any job that needs to be done. It was how Sister Martha raised us. Idle hands are Loki's workshop."

Jacks expression softened. "I didn't mean to offend you. I just want you to know that I can't offer much, and the things I can offer must also be earned through dedication and hard work. I won't force you to honour this commitment if this isn't the right life for you."

Ianto uncrossed his arms, touched by his sincere concern. "You've already paid for my transport and marriage license."

"And I'd pay for your transport back," Jack responded.

Before Ianto had a chance to respond, the cart jostled and creaked. He looked back, startled, to find Jax securing his luggage. He decided to sit so he could better weather the unpredictable movements of the cart.

When he returned his attention to Jack, he was focused on attending to Alice.

The little girl tugged on her father's coat until he gently picked her up and set her down next to him in the front of the cart. Ianto couldn't have been more touched by the scene. Jack's love for his children was obvious in his every gesture, and his honesty was evident in his offer for to let Ianto return if the work and hardship proved too much for him. He was only a humble farmer and he could imagine how he had saved so he could pay for the advertisement and his ticket. He had sacrificed for the sake of his children, who needed a Carer.

Many had warned Ianto against going West. There were only a few decent prospects for a poor man back in New Wales, but a man who went out west was at the mercy of the wilderness and his future husband. All children in the world deserved the love. Some were lucky enough to have the love of a father and mother. Some had no one to care for them. Ianto, being one of those children, knew this life very well. Sister Martha had been both father and mother for many children. She had proved time and again that the human heart was capable of immeasurable love. Still, Sister Martha would never have a family of her own.

It had been a few months ago, while Ianto was on his way home from interviews at manors and humble shops, that he had seen Jack's advertisement in the window of a Mail Order Bride agency. His simple request for a wife or Husband, in name only, to help raise his children and tend a home had touched his heart. A few letters later, Ianto had hastily licked and pressed down the postage on a letter wherein his whole future lay folded and directed. One week he was destined to be a spinster, by the time the post returned, he was a mail order fiancé.

Sister Martha alone had supported his decision. When Ianto asked why, Sister Martha said that Ianto's faith in the Gods would be justified. Silently, Ianto gave the Gods thanks for delivering him unto a family who had health, strength, and love. These were gifts of inestimable value.

But Ianto did not have long to pray. Life in the country moved at a different pace, and he welcomed this change.

Jack hopped down to help Jax into the cart. Jax said, "I don't need any help getting into the cart. I'm big and strong for my age."

Jack bent down to tie his shoe lace and Jax took the advantage of stepping upon his bent knee and leaping into the cart. Jack stood up without bothering with his laces, and settled on the seat at the front of the cart.

"See, I can do it myself," Jax told Ianto as he took his seat.

"I can see that," Ianto replied, glancing at Jack. It was a rare man who thought to salvage a young boy's pride.

Jack shook the reins as Alice snuggled up next to him. "We will meet Pastor Smith and his second wife, River, at the church. Smith will marry us and after that we will return home to the farm."

Home.

Ianto's heart swelled with warmth despite Jack's bleak delivery of their morning itinerary. For the first time in his life, he'd be able to call a place home.

.

.

.

.

The quaint white church was situated in a field between a leafless cherry tree orchard and a small forest of pine. Though gray clouds gathered overhead, the sun still shone brightly.

Jack gently pulled on the reins and the horses stopped. Immediately, Jax jumped from the back of the cart and began tending to them.

"Thank you," Jack called out.

Jax made a noncommittal grunt, but his chest puffed with pride. Jack then set down the reins and got off the cart, trusting Jax's abilities. Ianto found that he trusted him, too. Jax obviously knew his way around horses; his father had taught him well.

Jack helped Alice down and then offered Ianto his warm but calloused hand. His grip was firm, yet gentle.

"Put your hand on my shoulder," he told him. Ianto did. He leaned on him as he jumped down, and his muscles tensed under his full weight. His shoes sloshed in the mud.

"Are you alright?" he asked.

"Yes," he responded. Jack nodded. As he looked at the church, his expression darkened. "Let's get this over with."

Ianto's tight smile froze on his face. He was glad Jack Harkness' attention was not on him. Jack had made it clear in his letters that they would be husbands in name only. As a widower who'd lost someone he'd cared for deeply, he harboured no romantic notions towards him. He needed a man to act as a motherling to his children and to help out on the farm, nothing more.

Still, his briskness hurt Ianto. Yes, their marriage was necessary, but it didn't need to be viewed with the same distaste as dressing a wound.

Jack headed with long strides toward the church. He turned back, "So, are you coming?" He held his hands out, palms up. "You come too, Alice. Jax can see to the horses on his own."

Alice scowled at Ianto, and then quickened her pace to catch up with her father. Ianto took a deep breath and started up the small path alone. When he caught with them, they went into the dim church together.

"Thanks for your accommodation, Pastor," Jack called out. A man with wild hair got up from the pew and stood. He was lit from behind by the single stained glass window above the altar.

"Jack!" he said, "good to see you! Please … the children… are they with you … we would love to see… there is my little niece… Jax?…no. Ah. Right. OK."

Jack gave a noncommittal grunt, but the pastor didn't mind. Instead, he turned to Ianto and gave him a firm shake. "Ianto Jones, I presume? I'm Pastor John Smith. Welcome to Sweet Home's humble church."

"And don't forget his wife, River!" a cheerful, feminine voice from behind the altar called. A younger woman emerged, carrying a small bundle of juniper, and Ianto. "When I heard you'd be coming off the train, I scrambled to get some flowers together to commemorate your arrival."

River pressed the greenery to the momentarily speechless Ianto's hands. The Pastor and his cheery wife stood and smiled at them.

"Thank you," Ianto finally managed a reply.

River lifted a hand to her ample bosom. She was full and soft while her husband was thin and brittle, like perfect opposites. "Oh, you poor dear. Imagine being a mail order Mate and coming so far and then getting married the same day you arrive!"

Ianto blushed at River's reference to being married in such haste. He and Jack Harkness were little more than strangers, and he couldn't begin to imagine what this couple thought of their arrangement.

"We don't want to impose on you," Jack said abruptly. "So we'd like to begin the ceremony now, if that's alright."

"Of course, you know you are always welcome Jack. We miss you and the children, did you not all come often to visit? My sister would be saddened to learn that we have not kept in touch" River smiled. She went over to the organ and began the refrain to the Wedding March.

Jack interrupted her, "We don't need the trimmings. I just wanted us to be wed."

River immediately stopped playing with a soft sigh as if she had expected this. Ianto's eyes went wide. He didn't quite know what to think. How could Jack act so rude to the hospitable pastor and his wife? Clearly the sister of the dead mother to these children. In a church? In front of his child? He glanced at poor Alice. The girl seemed to stand in one place and shuffle at the same time. Her head was downturned, and her hair hung over her eyes like blinders. Ianto couldn't make out the expression on her face. Oh, this was not how a little girl should be on the day her father was to be married! Was it because her aunt and uncle were those witnessing this? Was this truly the first time they had seen the children since their mother's demise? Oh no.

Ianto's worries turned inward. Was his new husband unhappy with him? Did he expect a different kind of man to step off the train? A woman perhaps? Ianto tried to sense what Jack was feeling. Even though he was close, he seemed more distant than his daughter Alice.

Maybe Ianto should have listened to all the naysayers back in New Wales. What did he really know about Jack? He was just a man who had sent fare for his ticket.

They'd made a bargain, and now they were sealing that bargain with a wedding ceremony. There'd been no talk of romance, only marriage. But still, Ianto had hoped he would be open to friendship. He gripped the bouquet and

Prayed for guidance on how he should proceed. Then he knelt, handing the flowers to a surprised Alice, her little hands gripping them for grim life.

Pastor Smith stepped forward, still smiling.

"Of course, Jack. As an upstanding and helpful member of our community, it is my honour to marry you. Lucia would be pleased to find someone has been willing to love her children" He then winked at Ianto.

Ianto gulped. He had a feeling that Pastor Smith's reassuring words were for his benefit, which suggested he believed this match could work. Ianto thought back on what he'd discovered about Jack in the short time he'd been with him. He loved his children and needed him to help him care for them. He seemed respectful and he felt he could trust him to keep his word. He felt he was a dependable man. As the small ceremony continued, Ianto's resolve grew stronger. This was the man he had given his word to stand beside and to help.

Pastor Smith turned to Ianto. "Do you take this man to be your lawfully wedded husband?"

Ianto looked at Jack Harkness, this time studying him as a mate. With a full mouth, good cheekbones, and distinct brows, he was handsome. If they had met at a country ball, he would be the first man he would notice. Still, he felt sure a flock of butterflies would launch in his stomach if he were the one who asked him to dance. Of course …he wouldn't have. Ianto such a wallflower such handsome men never see him.

There was something alluring about his rugged features. Sturdy as mountains, wild as the wind blowing across the plains. Despite his stoic demeanour, his eyes were as expressive and expansive as a Boeshane Peninsular sky.

At that moment, it was his eyes that captivated Ianto.

He seemed to look at him as though he was seeing someone else. In that unguarded moment Ianto felt his sadness as keenly as if it were rain seeping through his clothes.

Did Pastor Smith marry Jack and his first wife in this very church? Is that why he felt so distant from Ianto now? Ianto did not seek to replace his wife. He wished he could communicate that to him plainly right now, but he knew such words would go unheard. Even if his heart were open enough to hear it, Ianto knew he wouldn't appreciate an audience. However, there was something he was expected to say at this time, to these people present. Such words as would probably hurt him to hear and might also go unappreciated, but he needed to say them aloud, before the Gods and these witnesses.

Ianto lifted his chin and looked directly into Jack's wounded eyes. "I, Ianto Jones, take you, Jack Harkness, to be my lawfully wedded husband. To have and to hold, from this day forward. For better, for worse. For richer and for poorer. In sickness and in health, until death do us part."

Jack's Adam's apple bobbed.

Pastor Smith turned to him. "Do you take this man to be your lawfully wedded husband?"

Jack shut his eyes. "I do," he whispered.

Ianto's heart swelled. Maybe it wasn't much as far as vows went, but he had a sense of how much strength it took him to say those words—to admit to himself, even for a moment, that he needed a partner. That is what they were now: partners. One day, he hoped they would also be friends.

Looking down, Jack took Ianto's hand in his. He was surprised by the calluses on his fingers, and by the warmth of his touch despite the cold. The small gold band he slipped onto his finger like silk. When he looked down, he was happy to find the ring fit his thin finger quite well.


	2. home

After the ceremony, they bundled into the wagon once more. Ianto sat down with a thump upon the wagon's rough wood seat. Alice slid in effortlessly between and snuggled next to her father. Jax once again slipped into the back to guard Ianto's luggage.

Despite the attempts from the Smiths to cuddle the children and offer them comfort, Jack was quietly firm as he told the children not to dally. Rive leaned in close to hug Ianto and whispered "good luck sweetie. He is so broken, we cannot bear this void between us. Have strength, love him. Please try."

Jack clicked his tongue and the horses strode away from the church. Everyone was quiet on the ride back to the Harkness farm, giving Ianto the impression that they were heading off to a funeral instead of returning home.

Even the landscape seemed to mourn. Black birds cawed. The puddles were edged with frost. The clop of hooves upon the dirt road. Ianto briefly wondered if the land itself was as barren as these individuals who quietly worked and eked a living from it.

The carriage gave a bump once in awhile going over a stone. Ianto slid up against Alice and then placed his hand on the rail near the bench and pulled himself back as he felt the child stiffen and shrug further against her father. Ianto turned to look back at Jax but could only see the back of his hat as he watched the wheels spinning and the road retreating past an isolated farmhouse or shed or cow. The cart bounced once more but this time Ianto straightened his back, unwilling to give into another bout of self-pity. He had willingly set himself upon this path. He gave a silent prayer to the Gods to ease this family's suffering and also asked for the strength to do what was right. When he opened his eyes once more, Ianto took in his surroundings with a sense of pride instead of wallowing in doubt and despair.

The grass along the road was yellowed, dark thistles stood alongside ratty cattails. Ianto wondered if there was any wild game here. He silently thanked Sister Martha for her lessons in the kitchen. He could provide all the things a motherling could give these young children. All but their mother's love. Perhaps, in time, his own love would suffice.

Ianto saw a line of trees bordering a field on the hillside. Most of the leaves were laid to rest at the foot of those trees, but a few clung stubbornly to the branches. They were vibrant red and brilliant gold, and when the wind made them turn, it gave them the appearance of a gentle flicker of flame in the hearth.

Speaking of a hearth, Ianto saw a wisp of smoke trailing upwards. The horses' ears pricked forward. They raised their heads and their gait incrementally picked up though Jack held the reins as steadily as before. Without a word from this stony family, Ianto knew that he had already spied their home.

Without a tug on the reins the horses turned down the narrow lane. The cart jostled even though he held on fast. This time the bumps were enough to unseat Alice, who was lifted up so high that she nearly landed on Ianto's lap.

The girl quickly shuffled back into her seat and Ianto laid a quiet hand upon Alice's shoulder for a short moment.

Ianto raised his chin and surveyed his first home.

Another horse stood in the distance, watching them.

Beside the mare was a medium sized barn with a few holes on the sides. The roof looked worn but patched. Jack pulled the wagon up to the barn. Ianto smelled the rich scent of hay and then a sour stench, of pigs perhaps.

It was strongly astringent with a hint of spoiled sweetness. The rustic house had a covered porch along the broadside. Wide wooden steps lead up to the porch. Faded curtains hung like lank hair on either side of the windows. This home was sorely in need of cheer and a woman's touch. He wondered if he would possibly be enough.

Perhaps he could turn their lives around and the farm could thrive again. That would be a suitable goal: just get everyone back on their feet again.

Ianto stole a glance at Jack—no, at his husband, he corrected. He sensed no relief coming from him even though they'd reached their destination. His unreadable eyes faced forward. They reminded of him muddy water that didn't abide being stirred, as though their preferred state was to be as still as glass without any reflection.

Jack's gaze remained steady and forward until he pulled the horse to a stop. He got out of the carriage, his long leg making the step to the ground without altering the level of his head. Dutifully, he came around to Ianto's side of the carriage and helped his new husband off the carriage. He then offered his hand to his daughter.

"No," Alice said. "I can do it."

"Are you certain?" Jack asked. "The ground is slippery."

"Of course," Alice said, beaming at Ianto. "I'm a big girl."

Then, the young girl eschewed her father's help and jumped lightly down from the carriage, with an exaggerated ease. Jack shook his head as Jax silently saw to Ianto's luggage.

"Well," he said, planting his hand down on his daughter's shoulder, "big girls can help others inside, can't they? Why don't you show you're new—um, Ianto around while Jax and I take care of the carriage."

Alice's mouth dropped open. "Why do I have to do that?"

Jack stepped back, sighing. "Alice…"

"I don't want to! He's not my mother! You are my Father … what is he!"

The sound of little Alice's voice seemed to echo through the open air. Every muscle in Ianto's body tensed.

"No one said he was to take your mother's place," Jack continued quietly. "But he's going to be staying with us. He is to be a Tad."

"And making your food," Jax added, narrowing his eyes at Ianto. "You better be nice to him, or else he'll poison you."

Alice gasped, clutching her threadbare coat.

"Jax!" Jack interjected sharply. "Don't lie to your sister. No one is poisoning anybody."

"How do you know, dad?" Jax asked. "You just sent him a letter. Mom said no one can read your handwriting. This guy probably didn't even read it before he came out here!"

"Jax, go tend to the horses," Jack directed. "And think about what you just said."

"Oh, I'll think about it alright," Jax muttered as he led the horse to the barn. However, the damage had already been done. Poor Alice was worked up.

"You didn't read it!" she told Ianto. "And if you did, that's even worse!"

Jack scowled, returning his attention to his daughter."Calm down, Alice. Why would that be worse?"

Alice's fists shook at her sides. "Because if he did, then he why would he want to come here? Why would he want to be with us?"

Alice's eyes glistened with unshed tears. Ianto's heart broke. He wanted more than anything to gather the girl in his arms and hug him, but he knew an embrace would be unwelcome. Instead, he tried to soothe Alice's pain with his words.

"It is true that your father's handwriting was difficult to read, but I managed after some effort," Ianto said, bending over so that his eyes were on the same level as Alice's. "You may not believe this, but much of why I wanted to come out here had to do with you and Jax."

"You wanted to punish us?" Alice asked with a shaking voice.

"No. I wanted to help you," Ianto insisted. "You see, I grew up in an orphanage all alone, and every night before I went to sleep, I prayed for a family …"

"Well you can't steal ours!" Alice yelled. Tears now streamed freely down her rosy cheeks, and her bright eyes blazed with sorrow.

Ianto's chest tightened. Had he just made things worse? Oh Gods, he prayed, please help me find the words to make this right.

Jack stepped in. "Alice, that's enough."

But Alice was beyond listening to anyone, even her father's warning. Instead of stopping, she screamed, "You can't steal my mother's place just because your mother didn't want you!"

"Alice! I said that's enough!"

Jack didn't yell at his daughter, but his voice had a hardness to it that made Ianto shiver. Alice looked up at her father in shock. Her bottom lip trembled.

Jack put his hand over his mouth.

"Alice," he whispered.

Alice stumbled back.

"Alice, I'm sorry," he said, reaching out to her. "I didn't mean to—"

Alice didn't let him finish. Instead, she turned and ran to the house, her little feet slipping but she refused to fall. With every misstep she moved faster until she was barrelling through the front door of the humble farmhouse.

Jack took a few steps after her before he too slipped. But unlike his daughter, after he regained his footing, he stopped, defeated.

"I'm sorry for her outburst," he said without turning. "She should not have spoken to you that way."

"It is alright. She's in pain," Ianto soothed.

"No it isn't," he said. "I should not have spoken to her that way."

Ianto couldn't help but notice the tension in his shoulders. He wanted to softly rub his back the way Sister Martha did whenever someone needed comfort, but knew instinctively that his touch would be even less welcome to Jack than it was to Alice. Instead, he stood beside his new husband and said without looking, "Alice will forgive you. She loves you, and knows that you love her."

Jack looked at his hands, he whispered. "I have never raised my voice to a child."

Ianto smiled at his husband's hands. They were so large and strong. Yet, at the same time, they were gentle… and perhaps even more than that, they were willing to reach out for help when they needed it. Yes, his voice had been stern, but it hadn't been cruel. "We all do and say things we wish we could take back. A few harsh words will soon be forgotten. Just give her time then you can talk to her."

He gulped. "We haven't done much talking much, lately."

Ianto nodded. He figured as much. Both children on the ride home had been too comfortable with silence.

"If you haven't talked to her much lately, then you must start," Ianto told him. "Alice looks to you for guidance. If you direct your children onto the right path, then when they are older, they will not leave it."

Jack looked up at him as he said his last words. His blue eyes studied him so deeply that he shivered.

"That is a beautiful thought, Ianto. Did you come up with that?" he asked.

"No," Ianto replied quickly. "It is from Proverbs."

"Proverbs?" Jack repeated, scowling. "The old Book?"

Suddenly, Jack looked very much like he had back in church. Ianto wasn't sure what the source of his husband's scorn was, but he knew there was no shame in sharing the word of the Gods. One of the more popular ones, all seemed to know his house.

"Yes," he said, keeping his back straight.

Jack turned away from him, but not before he saw a flash of pain cross his expression. "I'll talk to Alice. But Ianto, in the future, I'd prefer it if you did not offer any wisdom from that book."

Ianto's mouth was agape. Even though he stood still, he felt as if he'd lost his footing. "What do you mean?"

"It is not your fault. I should have been clear in my letter," Jack began, stuffing his hands into the pockets of his coat and turning his back to Ianto once more. "I will not ask you to abandon your faith; if you are capable of finding comfort in it then cling to that comfort as long as you can. There are many good believers in this town, and I count many as close friends."

Ianto's heart was beating so fast he almost couldn't make out his words. What was his husband saying?

Jack looked to the barn and watched Jax take the horse inside, giving Ianto a good look at his devastated profile. "All I ask is that you keep your love of the Gods to yourself."

"What do you mean I must keep it to myself? Can I pray?"

Jack's shoulders relaxed. "Of course. You can do anything you would do normally. Just don't involve us. And do not insist on the bloody Smiths being in our business either. They were her family, never liked me. None of them thought I was good enough to keep her. Well … guess they were right!"

"Can I correspond with them, then?" Ianto asked. "Because that's what I do normally. I like writing letters, I shall not include anything about you or Alice and Jax."

Jack's jaw tightened. "Fine, if that's what you want. Just don't do it around me. I don't want to listen to it."

He turned back to the house, and before walking back to the house, finished by saying: "I know you may not understand, but they are not needed by me or my children. I forbid contact between them."

.

.

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.

.

Ianto wrapped his arms around his chest. Jack's words echoed in his mind, leaving his feeling as hollow and cold as he had looked before he left.

_I forbid contact between them._

He shut his eyes. It wasn't his place to judge. As Sister Martha had told the children at the orphanage numerous times, all people have their own path in life. Ianto truly believed all good men and women would be saved. Jack was also a good man…which was why his sorrow touched him so deeply.

Ianto believed with all his heart that Jack deserved happiness. Still, he wouldn't force him. He had to come to the understanding that he was worthy of the Gods love on his own. He opened his eyes, taking in the small house within the context of these grandiose surroundings. All around him, from the snow-capped mountains to the old growth trees edging the quaint farm, Ianto saw evidence of love. If only Jack could see it; if only he could see that he was loved.

 **Var** – Goddess of marriage oaths must watch over this place. Gods willing. Var was the one who had set him on this path, sent him here to do her bidding. Surely. He would be polite to the Smiths but nothing more, he would respect his husband's wishes.

Ianto walked into the house, filled with new purpose. The inside of the house was simple—some mismatched chairs, a table that looked like it had been in the family for a long time, and rugs that had been made by tying together scraps of torn shirts and rags. Ianto supposed some back in New Wales might have dismissed such a place as rustic, but it felt cosy. Life out west might sometimes be hard, but people could worked together and find joy in each other's company. The greatest joy came from family. That was the kind of joy he came to Boeshane Peninsular to find, and the kind of joy he hoped to reintroduce to the Harkness family.

Still, there was work to be done. Ianto shivered as the door closed behind him. The fire in the wood stove must be low, he thought. He opened the door and threw in a few limb sized pieces of wood onto the embers. The hungry maw of the stove flared a moment and then he shut the door tight with a latch. That done he decided to take stock of his surroundings.

The main room was ample in size but still cosy. In his mind he removed the clutter and debris and saw it whole and put into order. It would be more than suitable. He walked slowly with deliberate steps into the kitchen area. He sighed. There were heaps of dishes in the sink. More still on the counter. There was a solid slab of wood that served as a cutting board but it was covered in grease, as though a pig had been butchered on it. The floor could be seen in patches. It seemed to serve mostly as the last place for smaller things to land.

Ianto was suddenly seized by a flurry of energy.

Near the wood stove was a cushioned seat that had a basket of mending beside it. Ianto admired the needlepoint flowers on the cushion. Despite being the most comfortable chair in the room, the cushion was dusty. It must have been where Lucia sat.

Beside the chair was a basket of mending. There was a cotton sheet in there, too threadbare for much use other than for patching behind a tear. There were also a few items of clothing that barely held together by buttons sewn in strange places with uneven stitches. Ianto's heart swelled with pride as he took inventory of these items.

They were unmistakably done by Alice, who had bravely decided to take on her mother's work after her death. Once again, Ianto admired the small girl's strength. Though Alice needed practice, her mother had obviously taught her well and endowed her with a good work ethic. He knew Lucia would also be proud.

Ianto heard a small cough. He turned to find Alice staring at her toes with her father right behind her. Ianto couldn't help but smile, even though he knew Alice couldn't see it. Carefully, he set down the small girl's work. Jack's face, however, remained tired. "Alice has something to say to you."

"I can say it myself, father," Alice whispered.

"Alright," Jack said, patting his daughter on the shoulder. Then, he looked up at Ianto. "I'll be in the barn helping Jax if either of you need me."

Alice said nothing.

Jack squeezed her shoulder. "You can do it," he whispered near his daughter.

"I know I can," Alice replied.

"That's right. You're a big girl, now. Big enough to show Ianto how to take care of the house." Jack gave her another pat and then pulled a long gray scarf off the hook near the door. Even from his vantage point in the room, Ianto could see it had been eaten by moths.

"Now," Jack said, "I've got to go make sure Jax hasn't tied up the chickens and led the horse to the chicken coup."

Alice giggled despite herself. Jack gave her a tender, aching smile as he wrapped the scarf around his neck. His expression sobered just before he left. "Tell him, Alice."

Alice sighed. "I will."

"Good. See you soon." And with that, he was out the door.

Pouting, Alice turned her attention to Ianto. "My father wants me to tell you I'm sorry for saying those mean things to you."

"Apology accepted," Ianto said. "Now, is there a broom in the house?" he couldn't wait to start cleaning; he had a lot to do and not much light left in the day.

Alice frowned. "Aren't you going to ask me if I'm really sorry, or if I'm just saying it because father told me to?"

"No," Ianto said.

Alice's frown deepened. "Why not?"

Ianto cocked his head to the side, unsure of how to proceed. "My guess is that you don't think you're sorry, and that you're upset your father made you apologize in the first place. That's alright; I know you're angry that I'm here, and I know that you wish I would go away. That's what you're feeling right now, at least. However, your true feelings go deeper than that."

Alice now frowned with confusion. "You don't know anything about me."

"You are sorry, Alice, even though you don't know it," Ianto said softly. "You're sorry because it isn't in your nature to hurt someone else, and when you realize this you will feel guilty. At that time, I want you to remember that I have already forgiven you so you can forgive yourself."

The frown and the confusion on Alice's face had disappeared. "What if I'm not actually sorry?" she asked in a voice filled with uncertainty. "What if I'm a bad girl?"

"You're not a bad girl. Don't ever think that," Ianto told her. "And don't worry about what you're feeling right now. A stranger has come to live in your home, and that must be scary."

"I'm not scared of you!" Alice insisted.

Ianto grinned. "Good, because right now I need a lot of help. Do you know where a broom is?"

Alice nodded.

"Will you get it for me?" Ianto prompted.

Alice nodded again and scurried out of the room. A moment later, Ianto heard the sound of rusty hinges and of wood being dragged over the floor. The light footsteps became distant and low. Then, there was a loud thud as the wood came down again and the footsteps returned, growing louder.

Alice held the staff of the broom high above her head so the broom wouldn't touch the floor. The broom was lovely. It had a delicate handle, sized for a woman's hand.

It was bound in a flare and also sensibly covered with a strip of leather. The broom corn was springy and ample and long.

After taking this in, Ianto gave Alice a smile that could barely contain his surprise and joy. "Thank you, Alice!" he said. "It's a lovely broom and exactly what I need!"

Alice's grip on the broom tightened. She seemed loath to let it go, but finally said, "It was mother's. Take good care of it."

Ianto's heart grew warm as he realized just how much of a gift he was receiving from the little girl. "I will," he assured little Alice. "Where was it?"

"The cellar," Alice told him, handing the broom over.

Ianto gripped the marvellous broom in his hand and knew he could set this house right. "Alice, I am going to start cleaning. Will you get a large kettle of hot water boiling?"

Alice nodded and, once again, took off. Ianto smiled, touched by Alice's sincerity. Though the little girl undoubtedly had mixed feelings about the new man her father had married, she was eager to help and took her work seriously.

Ianto had no time for musings. There was work to be done.

Unfortunately, he had little time for sweeping. He'd have to do as much as he could as quickly as possible and then finish later. Plumes of dust spilled out in front of him. The cleared-off floor boards beneath his feet seemed to glow as if they were as pleased as he to be rid of the dust. Ianto knew that with another round of sweeping and a mop he'd be able to make them sparkle but that would have to come later. Jack and Jax would soon return from their work in the barn hungry, and little Alice's stomach would undoubtedly be growling from all of her help. There was nothing as satisfying as a warm supper after a long day, and Ianto was determined to treat everybody. Ianto entered the kitchen with excitement. With pride, he hung the broom from a nail beside the door and then went looking for food.

Alice led him to a pantry that was stocked with onions, carrots, leeks, radishes, potatoes, sweet potatoes, cabbage, and other sturdy vegetables. There were sacks full of flour; one a jar of salt, one of sugar, and one of honey; a generous amount of eggs lined up carefully in boxes; and some tart apples. On the top shelf were some canned peaches and cherries. There were also a few biscuits beside them in a basket. Ianto noted that the handwriting on these canned items was not Jack's, and wondered if the jam and biscuits were given to him by a kind neighbour.

"Dad said he pulled an elk steak from the icebox last night. It should be thawed by now," she said from the door.

"Elk?" Ianto asked.

"Yes. My dad and my uncle hunted one a few months ago."

Ianto gulped. He had no idea how to cook an elk. Was it cooked like beef? Yes, it must be. He could deal with that.

"That sounds wonderful, Alice," Ianto said. Then, he scowled at the shelves. There wasn't enough time to make a stew, but he could boil some carrots and braise them with honey. The sweetness of cooked onions might subdue the spiciness of radishes. Some cabbage would be good, too. He'd stew them with the elk, sprinkle on some salt, and then serve them together. Ianto was unsure of what such a meal might be called, but was certain it would fill the belly.

He turned to Alice. "Have you ever sliced an onion or peeled carrots?"

Alice nodded. "Mother taught me, and I've been doing it myself for all this time."

Ianto hoped the smile he gave the small girl wasn't tinged with sadness, for there was some in his heart. Alice had been so brave in her mother's absence. He had no doubt that the house would have been in far worse shape if she weren't here to take on her mother's tasks.

Alice had done so well, and Ianto felt honoured to continue her education.

"Well, let's cut them together after we've gotten the meat," he said.

Alice nodded, already focused on doing her next job to the best of her abilities.

Ianto was determined to do his best, too. With both of them working together, dinner would go perfectly.

Right?


	3. A tree?

Dinner cooked up nicely. Alice was very helpful. Ianto had given her the job of peeling so that Ianto, as the adult, could focus on the chopping. After they were done and everything was cooking up in the pot, Alice stirred the vegetables with a militaristic precision. Ianto couldn't help but smile as he noted how seriously the young girl took her task. He had no doubt none of the vegetables would be burnt, and the meat would be juicy. Maybe Ianto could learn a few things from his new ward.

However, he couldn't sit back and admire Alice for long. There was still one last task to finish. "Keep up the good work, Alice. I'm going to clean the dishes. Then, we can set the table."

Alice nodded without taking her eyes off the pot. Ianto then focused on the stoneware. He gasped. Oh dear, he thought. Many of the dishes and mugs were in very poor condition. He should have noticed this upon his first inspection, but he'd been too excited about cleaning the floor. He wouldn't make that mistake again.

Well, I must focus. There's no turning back the clock, Ianto thought. He then started sorting the chipped dishes from the few that were fully intact, and placing those that were broken in box on the floor.

Among the irreparable pieces was a mug with a crack from rim to base. It was handsomely painted, with lean brown branches and delicately rendered red robins on a snowy white background. It was lovely but useless. As he added it to the growing pile, Ianto heard the front door slam and the soft yet determined thump of a child's footsteps.

"What are you doing?" Jax asked, bending over his pile of hopeless objects.

"Making dinner," Alice said without looking away from the pot.

"And cleaning up a bit," Ianto told Jax. "You should get out of your wet clothes and ready for supper."

Jax didn't move. Something in the pile of broken dishes had caught his attention. "What is this doing here?" he asked, rescuing the mug Ianto had briefly admired.

"It's broken, Jax," Ianto said. As the words left his mouth, he realized he'd made a grave error. Jax's cheeks became as red as the robins on the mug.

"This was mother's!" he said, bringing the mug to his chest.

"I'm sorry," Ianto said soothingly. "I didn't know."

"You don't know anything!" Jax said.

Ianto was surprised by his outburst. Even Alice dropped the wooden spoon she stirred with. It clattered on the floor. Both children were staring at him. Ianto suddenly felt overwhelmed. Though these children were young, their grief was strong. As their guardian, he now had the power to govern their development. For some reason, he hadn't thought about this aspect of raising a child on his journey west. Instead, he'd only thought of the happiness and his longing to be a part of a family. But raising children wasn't always easy. There would be many trials ahead, and Ianto must prove to them and their father that he was up to the task. Hard lessons sometimes had to be learned, and Ianto needed to be empathetic and fair.

Once again, Ianto tried to find the right words so he could excel in his new position.

"I'm sorry, Jax," he said, kneeling down so he was lower than the red-cheeked boy. "There are many things I don't know yet. I am eager to learn these things. I'm going to need to rely on you and Alice for help. I'm going to need your patience for when I make a mistake. When someone makes a mistake, you can't punish them for it. Instead you have to help them understand the wrong, so they don't do it again. If you punish someone for a mistake, they feel bad and only remember feeling bad. They don't learn anything. But if you take the time to show them how to do it right, they will remember it for the rest of their lives."

Jax frowned, clasping the mug to his chest. Ianto smiled. "From the moment I saw it, I thought it was a handsome mug, Jax. And while it is cracked, I was wrong for thinking it was no longer useful. Do you think it might look nice sitting on the windowsill?"

Jax looked at the mug, and then up at the windowsill. "Yes. The branches on the mug look like the ones on the apple tree."

"You're right." Ianto smiled. The boy was very observant. "Do you want to put it up there?"

Jax nodded. "Yes. I'll do it," he said, standing up on his tiptoes so he could reach above the cutting board. Ianto did not offer to help him up. Though it was awkward, he knew the boy could do it on his own. More than that, he knew it was important for him to do it on his own; the mug in the window would serve as a reminder that Ianto had no intention of taking his mother's place, and in fact respected all Lucia had accomplished.

"It looks very nice there," Ianto said once he was back on his feet and the mug was securely tucked in the corner of the windowsill. Jax was right, the branches on the mug did resemble the branches of the apple tree outside. Ianto knew he would appreciate the view of when a bird rested on the apple tree's branches.

"Thank you," Ianto said, turning to Jax. He was surprised to find Jax studying him.

"I'm sorry I said you didn't know anything. There are some things you know," he said.

Ianto was happy to see that his eyes looked directly into his and his voice didn't waver. Like his father, Jax was able to admit when he was wrong and it was in his nature to set things right.

"Apology accepted," Ianto said. He took a deep breath.

"I guess there are even some things I might learn from you," he added a bit grudgingly.

Ianto's smile deepened. "I'm sure we'll both learn many things from each other," he corrected. "Now go change your clothes and wash your hands. Your father will be home soon, and when he arrives he'll want dinner."

Jax's back straightened. "I won't hold anyone up!" he promised, then dashed from the room.

Ianto also didn't want to hold anyone up. With Jax and Alice both doing their best with the tasks he gave them, it was up to him to make sure the rest of dinner went smoothly.

He cleaned the rest of the dishes. Some were chipped, but they'd have to do. Jax finished dressing and insisted he help him set the table. Ianto was thankful for the help. The two of them got everything ready while Alice kept watch over the food.

As the last fork was set on the table, the front door flew open. Ianto glanced up. Jack's strong silhouette stood in the doorframe. Somehow he had managed to finish his daily tasks in a quarter of the amount of time it usually took to do them, since most of the day had been spent gathering him and having a quick wedding ceremony in town.

Jack stepped forward and shut the door, careful not to let in another chilly gust.

"Hello father," Jax said, grinning. "I set the table."

Jack turned, raising his eyebrows. "Really?"

"Yes," Jax said, beaming with pride.

Jack shook his head. "That is a first. And look, the forks and knives are all in the right order."

Jax spared Ianto quick glance. "Ianto might have shown me how but I washed up so I could help!"

Jack patted his son on the head. As he did, he looked at Ianto with an expression he couldn't quite make out. Still, it didn't matter. The strange expression was gone almost as soon as it had appeared, for Jack's attention had returned to his son.

"You certainly did wash up," Jack said. "I reckon it will make dinner more pleasant."

Jax pulled away. "Are you saying I stink?"

"Jack's lip quirked up. He glanced at Ianto again, this time his eyes dancing with light and humour. "Did I say any such thing?"

Ianto couldn't believe it. Had Jack just made a joke? The importance of this was completely lost on young Jax. "You think I stink!" the boy accused.

"That's because you do!" screamed Alice from the kitchen. "You smell like rotten eggs!"

Jack shook his head. "It's not that bad," he reassured Jax. "Alice, where did you develop such sass?"

"It's not sass, father. It's the truth!" the little girl proclaimed.

Jax tugged on Jack's sleeve. "Do I really smell like rotten eggs?"

"No," Ianto reassured. "You smell like a boy who has been working hard outside, and there is nothing rotten about that."

"And even if you did, you don't anymore. You cleaned up for dinner. You haven't done that since…" Jacks' expression became sombre. He straightened his back. "Now, what's keeping your sister?"

Jax took his seat at the table, frowning.

"Father!" Alice yelled from the kitchen. "I'm making dinner!"

"Alice has been cooking," Ianto explained.

Jack shut his eyes, inhaling deeply. A sliver of a smile once again returned to his lips. "It smells wonderful."

"It better! Ianto and I worked hard on it," the little girl called out. A few seconds later she appeared in the doorway. Her mitt was as big as her head, and the apron she wore nearly hit the floor even though Ianto had rolled it up. That was alright; Ianto knew she'd grow into her mother's apron soon.

Children grew up so fast.

Jack seemed to be contemplating his young daughter standing in Lucia's apron. "You did a great job, Alice."

Alice scrunched up her nose. "How can you tell? You haven't even tasted it."

"But I can smell, and it smells just like something your mother would make. I think she'd be proud of you."

Alice's grin stretched from ear to ear.

Jax, however, was ready to eat.

"Let's get on with it! I'm starving," he said.

Jack frowned at his son. "Jax, be patient."

Jax pouted, but didn't complain again. Instead, he got up and pulled out the chair next to his for his sister. "Come on, Alice."

Alice jumped into the chair, still beaming. Jack lumbered into his own seat. Ianto immediately dashed to the kitchen. Now it was his turn to present the dinner he and Alice had made for their family. The elk steaks smelled lovely and the carrots and onions were cooked to perfection. He grabbed two pot holders and picked up the cast iron pan. Carefully, he picked it up and slowly walked into the room. He wanted to showcase Alice's hard work; the girl deserved to take some pride in it.

When Ianto entered, he saw Jax moving a chair from the corner to the table; now the table seated four.

Ianto couldn't have been more touched. He thanked Jax simply, and he grunted in return. Though he'd completed this simple task without any sentimentality, Ianto knew what it meant. Ianto was beginning to be accepted into their family and he couldn't have been happier.

Ianto brought over the pan and passed out the elk steaks. He also set the butter and the biscuits in the centre of the table. Everyone sat for a moment. Jack looked it all over with an assessing eye and then reached to butter his biscuits. Jax quickly follow suit and soon his plate was filled. Alice affected nonchalance but Ianto could hear her stomach rumble.

Then Ianto cut himself a bite of elk steak. "Alice, this is so delicious. I have never tasted elk before."

Jax laughed, "One day, dad is going to take me hunting. I promise to bring home a big one."

"That will be a proud day," said Ianto. He gave Jax a big smile. He was so eager to grow up and be like his father.

"Alice will be an expert cook by then," Jack said.

"I don't know what all the fuss is about. It is just elk steak," said Alice.

"What's all this?" said Jack. He turned his head to face Alice. Alice twisted in her chair and tried not to look at him.

"It's alright," Ianto said. "It has been a long day for us all."

Jack scowled, but said nothing more. Ianto adjusted his grip on his fork, wishing they could find the ease in being together that had been there just a few minutes before. He knew he had to be patient. He and Alice had made great progress today, but they still had a long ways to go. Ianto was glad for the opportunity to see Alice without her veil of grief for a little while, and hoped he had the strength to continue to help her on her path.

Alice ate greedily at first until the edge of her appetite was softened and then she pushed the last bits around on her plate with her fork. Alice watched her father and brother as they cleaned their plates and wiped them dry with the last of their biscuits. Alice seemed to make an effort not to look over in Ianto's direction and remained quiet for the rest of the meal. Ianto was very aware that the child wouldn't look over at him. Alice probably needed more time.

The biscuits wanted a bit more baking. Ianto meant to apply himself to learn the ways of this particular stove. But he was pleased that there was a supply of bacon and eggs and butter, in the larder. The biscuits could do with a bit of jam as well. Tomorrow he would learn every inch of this household and explore the cellar. Perhaps he would find some dried fruit, and then he could make a batch of jam.

Once the meal had ended, Ianto pushed back his chair. It made a loud grating sound on the wooden floorboards. He chastened himself for making that racket. He said quietly to Alice, "Would you help me clear the table please?"

Alice stared at her plate and acted as though she didn't hear Ianto. Finally Jack spoke, "Alice you will clear the table as Ianto asks."

Alice turned abruptly to her father but said nothing then made a great effort to scrape her chair legs along the floorboards much louder than Ianto had.

Ianto washed the dishes. Alice dried them with a sullen attitude. Jax played quietly and then went off to bed. Alice disappeared after sweeping the kitchen floor. Patterns were already established. Something new had arrived but things stayed mostly just the same. The day wound down and soon everyone was to be in bed. If Ianto wondered about that arrangement, there was no need.

Jack stayed up, reading in his large comfortable chair by the oil lamp light, stoking the fire and keeping the cold at bay. Ianto pulled back the coverlet and the sheets, plumped the pillows and fell asleep as soon as his head sunk into the stiff feather crinkle.

.

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.

.

Ianto awoke, suddenly aware he was alone in the house. Jack had not come to bed, clearly had slept out there in the chair. Ianto was not sure how to feel about that.

Where was everyone? Were they at work already? That wouldn't do. Even if it was his first full day on the farm as Jack Harkness' husband, Ianto had to pull his own weight. Quickly, he dressed. He went to the kitchen and put a large kettle of water on to boil. He noted with satisfaction that the fire was well laid up and would burn for several hours. What this family needed was fresh bread.

He set out to make a sponge and laid that aside, covered with a dish towel, to rise on a shelf next to the stove. Once that was done, he allowed himself a moment of rest and glanced out the kitchen window. In the distance was Alice feeding the horses and Jax tending the pigs.

He noticed that the bucket of peelings and the fat had been emptied.

From behind, he heard the front door open. Ianto pushed himself from the counter and rubbed his palms on his trousers. A moment later, he sighed. There was still some flour on them, and now that little bit of flour dusted the front of him garments. This wouldn't do. A host should be on point when welcoming a guest, but Ianto didn't have time to fix it.

Taking a deep breath, he remembered Sister Martha's reassurances whenever he was a klutz or made a mistake with his chores at the orphanage: _You have a good heart, Ianto, and that is what shines through and what people respond to—not appearances. Have faith in yourself and good things will come to you._

Ianto hoped Sister Martha was right.

The door opened. Jack, his new husband, stepped in. White winter sunlight spilled over his broad shoulders. He nodded when he saw him, not even seeing the flour on his pants.

"Good morning," Ianto said.

"Mornin'," he replied gruffly. "I have something for you."

He went to the coat rack on the far side of the room, and picked out a pair of work boots that were lined up neatly against the wall beneath it.

"You'll be needing something more suitable for farm work," he explained. "Your city shoes are too flimsy and worn."

Ianto quickly compared the sturdy boots in his hand to his "city shoes." His were simple and practical for work indoors or a quick stroll down a cobblestone street, but he was right. They would quickly wear out in the mud. Worse, they lacked support for his ankles and gave no protection against mud or snow. Ianto had no doubt his husband would care for him if he twisted an ankle, but he wanted to do everything possible to make sure he could help out with anything that was needed around the farm.

Jack handed him the boots. "They might be a little big for you, but they'll have to do for now. Next month, we can go into town and get you your own pair. They…belonged to Lucia," he added hesitantly. Ianto gripped the boots tightly. This must be a hard moment for Jack. He looked carefully in his face for signs of sentimentality but could find none. "You can still wear your city shoes in the house, if you want. I guess now we should call them 'house shoes.'"

Ianto nodded, smiling. "House shoes. I like it. That makes me sound rather dignified, does it not?"

Jack harrumphed, looking down at his flour-laden pants "Don't let it get to your head."

"Now you're just being silly," Ianto replied as he unlaced his snug fitting thin leather boots and put on Lucia's more serviceable brogues. "These 'house shoes' were hand-me-downs too, you know, from a kind patron of the orphanage. In fact, I own very few things that were not once someone else's."

Jack's expression grew sombre. "We'll get you new shoes soon," he said softly.

Ianto stood up straight. "I like it that way, actually," he corrected. He wasn't looking for pity, nor did he feel any pity for himself. "It reminds me of the goodwill of my neighbours. Charity is a gift and a virtue for both the giver and the receiver. It's a lesson I'll not forget every time I put on these boots."

He wiggled his toes. They were perhaps a half size too large, but that wasn't anything a second pair of thick wool socks wouldn't fix. Jack shook his head. "I hadn't thought about it quite that way, Ianto. I'm glad the boots will do for now."

Ianto grinned, grabbing a coat. "They certainly will. Now, teach me how to manage the farm so I can help you properly."

Jack pointed at his pants. "The first thing you must do is stop being self conscious about a little flour."

Ianto gasped. "You could tell?"

"You have your hands in front of the spill like it's something to be ashamed of," Jack told him. "But you never have to be ashamed of your work, especially when you do it with all your heart."

Ianto nodded, putting his hands at his sides.

"Alright," he said, feeling lighter. Life on the farm sure was different than life back in New Wales, where his every movement was judged. Ianto gave silent thanks that Sister Martha's kind words had truly come to pass.

Jack moved back to the front door. "As far as work goes, you had best learn from the children. Jax knows all about pigs and Alice knows horses. I suspect you know more than enough to fare in the kitchen, judging from those biscuits last night."

Ianto nodded, pleased he would be able to spend more time with the children.

Jack opened the door. "Well, come with me. I'll show you the farm."

The wind was working at separating the last of the withered leaves from their weakening hold upon the trees. Ianto wrapped his coat tightly around his shoulders and wrapped his arms around himself. Ianto scanned the skies and thought ahead. Winter here would be harsh and snow would cover the land for months. He was glad Lucia had slightly larger feet. He could add another layer of socks for warmth and still be able to wiggle his toes. Jack was right, his old boots were woefully unsuited for life on these harsh high plains.

Soon they were at the barn. Jack drew back the large front door. Inside it smelled of hay, manure and leather from harnesses and tack. The only light came from a dormer window at mid-roof.

"Come see how Alice and the mare are doing," Jack said as he led him to Janet's stall. Ianto saw Alice stroking the mare's nose. The mare had big brown eyes and she was blowing and sniffing at Alice's hand.

Alice coaxed, "There Janet, eat your hot mash. I made it just for you. You have to keep your strength up. Come on Janet, I made it sweet. You'll love the extra molasses."

Alice tore her eyes off Janet for a moment to acknowledge Ianto and her father. Then, she went back to stroking the mare and talking to her softly.

Janet finally turned her attention from Alice's hand to the mash which steamed in her trough. Janet's great swollen abdomen made her legs look spindly in comparison. Ianto smiled at seeing Alice's concern and tenderness towards her mare.

"Come along, there's more to see on the farm," Jack said.

Once he'd led him away from Alice and Janet, Ianto asked, "Isn't it a little unusual for a mare to be foaling in late December?"

"It is indeed. A mare is pregnant for eleven months. Nature generally protects against winter births. Last fall was so unseasonably warm, there was no turn in weather to alert nature. I should have wondered when Janet's winter coat didn't come in until January, and even then, it was sparse. Alice cinched a blanket around her, even before we figured she was pregnant."

Ianto nodded, happy but not surprised by Alice's thoughtfulness and keen eye, for Alice had already shown Ianto through her actions just how intelligent and kind she was. Again, Ianto hoped that his relationship with the young girl could grow and blossom into a true friendship.

Maybe it could happen. Christmas was almost upon them, and though their quaint farm seemed as of yet untouched by the special holiday. Now, all he had to do was help Jack and his children to see that beauty was all around them, and that love was truly the greatest gift of all.

But first, breakfast. The sun was just beginning to rise, and the children would be hungry. In the future, he would wake before them to make sure their bellies were full before they started their chores.

Ianto thanked Jack and then made his way back to the house. Putting on his 'house shoes,' he got to work. The fresh bread was a hit at breakfast, especially when coupled with honey from the pantry. He also served porridge to make sure no tummies rumbled. After breakfast, everyone got up from the table and continued doing their chores.

Alice brought more hot mash to Janet in the barn. Jax went out to check on the pigs. And Jack was going to check on the fence.

Having used up all the ingredients in the pantry the night before, Ianto decided to go down to the root cellar and start looking for dinner. He took a basket from a hook in the kitchen and went down to the cellar. Hanging on a hook was an apron, Ianto gladly grabbing for it.

It was little more than a closet sized room that contained ice, straw, and wood shavings. Still, it preserved things for quite a while if they were wrapped in muslin and then buried in the chips and covered with snow and bits of ice. He rummaged in the straw and picked out three potatoes, he went to another area and picked out an onion and a couple of carrots. He went to the crock and pulled out a slab of salted pork. After drying his hands on his apron, he picked up his basket and came back up the stairs.

Ianto filled the large iron kettle with water and roughly chopped the vegetables. Then, he rinsed the slab of pork in several changes of water. Finally, he chopped up the pork and added it to the kettle, put on the lid, and left his soup on the outer edge of the stove to simmer for the next several hours.

Now that dinner was taken care of, he went outside and sought out Jack. He was just outside the barn, unloading grain off the wagon.

"It is less than a week before Christmas," Ianto said after he grunted a greeting.

Jack frowned. "Is that so?" he asked, continuing his work.

"Yes, and I think it would be nice for the children to have a tree," Ianto continued.

Jack stopped his work and crossed his arms over his chest. Oh dear. He didn't like the sour expression that was crossing his face. Was he stepping out of line? Ianto didn't think so; his husband was a reasonable man, so he needed to be clear so he knew where he was coming from.

A Christmas tree doesn't have to be a symbol of religion," Ianto explained. "Rather, it is a symbol of friendship and new beginnings."

As expected, Jack had his own opinions. In his measured, deep voice he said, "We have done just fine without a tree for Christmas a few years now. Seems a waste of a good tree and means an afternoon without work. No need for that foolery."

But Ianto wasn't so easily dissuaded. "What if the children finish their chores?"

Jack cocked his head to the side. "What are you getting at?"

"I mean, would you let us take the wagon and Buck if the children and I finish our work?"

Jack shook his head. "I don't see any problem with that. If all of you want to rush so you can waste your time with this fruitless task, then that is your business. But I don't think they'll want a tree."

Aha! Ianto thought. "Well, I'll ask them, if it's alright with you."

"Its fine, but I'm telling you you're wasting your time," Jack muttered, then got back to work.

Ianto had been dismissed, but his heart was soaring.

He knew the children would want a Christmas tree, and even more than that, he knew this family needed Christmas. Now that he'd received Jack's blessing, nothing could stop him.


	4. a tree and a smile?

First, Ianto had to find the children. Alice was easy to find. Though the little girl was slightly reluctant to leave Janet, her eyes lit up when Ianto explained that her absence would be due to finding a Christmas tree.

"Is it alright with father?" the small girl asked.

"Yes, your father said it was alright," Ianto reassured.

"Oh, that's so great!" Alice exclaimed as the infectious light returned to her eyes.

Ianto smiled. "Now, let's go find your brother. We will need him to cut it down for us."

Jax beamed when Ianto asked him. He couldn't wait to get the chance to be a man and chop down his first tree with a hatchet, and finished feeding the pigs in double time. He even helped his father unload the grain from the wagon. Then, Jax brought Buck around and harnessed him to the wagon. Before they left, Jack insisted they all put on another layer of clothing for the foothills had snow. Ianto had never seen two children more eager to obey their father.

Jack was taken aback as well.

"It's just a tree," he muttered as Ianto and the kids bundled into the wagon.

But nothing can dampen infectious Christmas spirit.

Jax clicked his tongue and flicked the reins. The small party headed east. The low hills had evergreens, there they were certain to find a suitable tree.

Ianto smiled as both children snuggled against him. Jax skilfully handled the reins as Alice sat peaceably beside him in the wagon's bench seat.

"I want a real tall tree!" Jax told them.

"But we have a small home," said Alice. "We should get a small tree."

Ianto chuckled. Jax was so full of enthusiasm, and Alice was endearingly practical.

"Let's look for something full and fluffy," Ianto said. "Oh, it will smell divine!"

Soon the road ended and they tied up Buck and let him look for sprigs of grain stalks poking out of the snow. They trudged up a low incline and scattered to see if there was a proper tree to cut.

"I've found it!" Alice called out.

Ianto and Jax came quickly. Alice had found a glade of mixed alder and maple trees. Standing between them was a nine foot tall noble fir.

Jax nodded.

"This will do," he said, then got to work clearing the snow at the base of the trunk. Alice and Ianto stood back, watching him. This seemed to suit Jax fine.

After procuring the hatchet, he started whacking the trunk as if he were butchering it.

"Take off a few lower limbs to give yourself some room to work," Ianto offered. He wished they had brought a saw but the only one Jack had was three feet long and Ianto feared that would cause an accident if they tried to wield it. The hatchet would just have to do. The boy wanted the effort, Ianto let him have his moment to provide. After a few minutes of solid hard work, Jax got through the middle and then a few strokes later, the tree fell into the snow. Jax and Alice laughed and fell over in the snow themselves. Ianto laughed in spite of himself.

"Come on," he said, pulling them to their feet. Then, he dusted off the snow from their clothes.

The hard work wasn't over yet, though. They all did their part to bring the tree back to the wagon. Each grabbed a branch and dragged it.

Perhaps they had begun later than was wise. By the time they got back to the wagon, the sky was lowering with grey clouds and Ianto could hear Jax's stomach give a rumble. They each hoisted the tree trunk first down the length of the wagon and climbed aboard the buckram.

Jax once again clicked his tongue and shook the reins.

Buck immediately started homeward.

"Let's sing a carol. Do you know Deck The Halls?" Ianto asked.

Alice frowned. "No."

"Jingle Bells?" Ianto ventured.

"Everybody knows that one!" Alice replied.

"Yeah," Jax agreed in a grunt reminiscent of his father's.

"Good. Then let's sing!" Before they had time to protest, Ianto began.

At first, Ianto thought he'd be singing all alone, but by the time he got to the chorus Jax joined in. Alice did soon after in a voice so sweet and pure that Ianto was pleased to be seated right beside her. Why, Alice had the voice of an angel. Why didn't she sing just for the pleasure of hearing her own voice?

When they were done with the song, Ianto said, "That was wonderful. I had no idea how musical you both are. It is a shame that you don't sing more."

Jax tucked his chin down and said, under his breath, "We don't sing much since momma died."

"Especially carols," Alice added quietly.

Jax nodded. "Father doesn't want to hear any singing and asked us not to bring those happy songs into the house."

Ianto's heart broke for his husband. The pain of Jack's loss had isolated him from many of the wonderful things in life that could bring him joy. He wished there was some way he could ease his pain, but Jack seemed to nurture it, coddle it, keep it locked inside from the light of day and even from fresh air. It was a sorrow that had burrowed in like a worm and eaten at the core of an apple. It was hard to expel such pain. Jack had no doubt grown accustomed to it. He'd probably even begun to depend on it. His sorrow was proof that his wife had lived and that he had loved her. Ianto worried whether anyone could get him to let a little light shine into his heart and show him some peace.

"Singing is good for the soul and good exercise for the mind and body. I would like to have us practice some songs for you to sing on Christmas," Ianto said.

"Singing is only done in church and father won't set foot in church," said Jax.

Ianto recalled Jack's impatience and brittleness while they were in church.

Ianto refused to allow his shoulders to slump. "Well, that may be so, but we can still have a nice dinner together on Christmas Eve. We can enjoy the trimmed tree and light some extra candles. Then, on Christmas morning, open presents."

"We don't have any presents," said Jax

"Father doesn't believe in Christmas presents," said Alice softly. "Not since mom died."

"Well, we don't have to worry about what St. Nicholas brings. We will make do ourselves," Ianto decided. "Christmas presents do not have to be elaborate to be meaningful. I'm sure each of you knows what the other one wants. I think there's a way for you to make that happen. For instance, Alice, your father has holes in his socks. I'll bet you could darn them up and give them to him on Christmas day. Jax, you know your father has been asking for you to finish getting the rust off and oiling the plough. Maybe that is a project you could work on, without him noticing. Then, you could show him your work on Christmas day."

There was a brief silence.

"I guess that would be alright," Jax said finally, breaking it. "Father has been asking me about that a lot. He'd appreciate me doing it."

Alice said nothing but snuggled up against Ianto, shivering. Ianto put his arm around Alice, and the young girl did not reject the warmth of his body. Luckily, they were close to home. Buck's pace had increased, and the outline of the farm could be seen. When the wagon pulled up, Jack appeared immediately. His usual long strides were quicker and heavier and he wore a frown. Ianto thought he looked like he might blow smoke and roar.

"What is the matter?" asked Ianto.

"You shouldn't be out in the woods until dark. Don't you know something could have happened to you?" Jack growled. "Ianto, I would expect that you would have taken better care of them."

Jack grabbed the reins and unfastened Buck from his wagon. He looked dangerously angry and Ianto wasn't quite sure what to say. He and the children quickly climbed down from the buckram.

"We were fine. I assure you we were safe," Ianto said once his footing was steady.

Jack shut his eyes. "I'm sorry I raised my voice. I was just worried for a moment. I…I want you all to be careful when you go out is all. I should have gone with you. I don't know why I didn't. Next time, I will."

"Next time you'll come with us to find a Christmas tree?" Alice asked.

Jack looked at her strangely as if shocked by the hope in her voice. "I suppose I will."

"Father, look at the fine tree we brought back," said Jax.

Jack took a look at it and pulled it off the wagon in one fell swoop and dropped it, trunk down, into the horse trough. "This is big. How did you get it in the cart?"

"We all worked together," Alice said.

"That you did," Jack murmured.

"I chopped it down myself," Jax told his father proudly.

Jack tousled Jax's hair. "You brought back a nice tree. I wish I could have seen it."

Jax smiled up at his father.

Jack sighed, back to business. "Well, the tree will need water to stay fresh if you want it to last until Christmas. I suppose since you've all gone to the trouble of getting it I can do my part. It's too late to get it set up now, but it will last for a while outside. We can deal with it in a few days."

"Your father is right, children," Ianto said. "Let's get it set up and then decorated. Oh, it will look so beautiful and smell so lovely and fresh!"

Jack raised his eyebrows and gave Ianto a quick look. "Is that so?"

Ianto wrung his hands together, suddenly self conscious. "Yes. You won't have to do a thing, just let us have our fun."

"Fine," Jack acquiesced, "as long as no one takes the wagon and goes out in the woods without supervision again."

"I hope you didn't miss us too badly while we were gone," Ianto said with a smile.

"I'll put the horse away. You all look wet. Go in and change before you catch cold," Jack's words might have been gruff, but his concern was evident to Ianto.

"Come in the house you two, we will get you warm and dry," Ianto said. "Dinner will be at the usual time, so don't be too long putting away the wagon."

Once inside the house they all stripped off their outer layers. Ianto noted that Jack had already laid fresh logs in the stove and the house was piping warm. He lifted the lid of the large iron kettle and saw that the pork stew was nicely done. It was lucky that he had left the soup on the edge of the stove. Now all that remained to do for dinner was to make quick biscuits.

By the time Jack had come inside, the kitchen smelled rich and fragrant. Alice and Jax had already set the table, so all that was left to do was sit down and enjoy a hearty meal after a full day's work.

.

.

.

.

The next morning Ianto made sure to wake before anyone else. Jack was slumped in the chair and Ianto worried that it must not be comfortable. Stubborn man. Swiftly, he prepared breakfast, happy that they'd all now start their day on the right foot. After a breakfast of eggs and leftover biscuits, Jack and Jax got up went outside to tend to the animals. Alice and Ianto were left to clear away the table.

Ianto immediately noticed a change in the young girl.

Instead of picking up a few plates and then shying away, Alice grabbed the broom and gave the main floor a careful sweep while Ianto washed the dishes. Alice then hung the broom up on its nail and came over to Ianto. Picking up a clean cloth, she dried the washed dishes.

Ianto sensed that something was coming. He held his tongue and waited for Alice to speak.

"I was thinking about your suggestion of, well, about your idea of Christmas presents," Alice began hesitantly.

Ianto nodded.

"I'd like to fix father's socks properly. They have horrible holes in the heel and toes. I doubt they even keep his feet warm. But the problem is, I don't know how to do it." As Alice admitted this last bit, she lowered her eyes in shame.

"I'm not sure I knew how to darn socks before your age, either," said Ianto. "I could teach you in a few minutes. Just remember, it is a skill that you perfect with practice. It might go slowly at first, but soon you can practically do it in your sleep. Come, sit down at the table and I'll get my needles and yarn."

Ianto returned with his personal bag that he had brought with him from the orphanage. He hadn't opened it in such a long time that memories of Sister Martha flooded in while he spread out his treasures. Smiling, Ianto picked up a silver thimble that neatly fit the middle finger. He placed this on Alice's right hand explaining, "This is for pushing the end of the needle through thick fabric. It saves your finger so much wear."

"It's just beautiful," Alice held up her hand and admired the thimble on her finger, twisting her hand from all angles to catch the sparkles in the sun.

"That looks like it fits you pretty well," Ianto said. When had Sister Martha given it to him? He must have been about Alice's age. He remembered it fitting his finger similarly.

"Now," Ianto began, "these large sewing needles are specially made for darning. See the huge eye of the needle? The next size down is for embroidery. But we will use the darning needles today."

Alice nodded, completely focused on Ianto's instruction.

Ianto then selected a dark brown wool skein. "The last thing we need is a pair of scissors." he brought out a delicate pair of scissors that looked like a silver stork. The snipping ends were the long bill of the bird, hinged at the eye. They formed a slight curve and widened gradually to suggest the neck and breast of the bird. They were fullest at the body that split at the legs which ended in a pair of rounded circles. The larger round had just the trace of a tail.

Alice gave an inadvertent sigh when she saw those beautiful scissors. Ianto placed them in her hand and Alice marvelled at how effortlessly and soundlessly they worked.

"Whoever gave you such a treasure?" Alice asked.

"They were given to me by Sister Martha, from the orphanage."

"Surely she must have loved you the most of all her girls. I never knew scissors could be so beautiful."

"How nice of you to say that. I suppose Sister Martha did have a soft spot for me. She was always so careful to treat us all the same. But when I left she insisted that I take her very own scissors and sewing bag to remember her by." Ianto hoped that Alice didn't notice the catch in his throat, or the fact that he had to blink several times to clear his eyes.

"So, you'll want to stuff the sock with a rounded piece of wood," Ianto continued. "Sister Martha had a wooden 'egg' which she shoved into the toe or heel of the sock. It gives you something to stitch against and prevents you from accidentally sewing the toes together, making the sock even smaller. Let's see. I suppose we could use the end of a wooden spoon."

After that explanation, Ianto stood. He was grateful for the opportunity to get up and move, and quickly dabbed his eyes with the edge of his apron when he had his back turned. He missed the only person who had ever shown him affection. Once his eyes were once again dry, he returned with the spoon and continued the lesson.

"Here we go," he began. "Now, Spoon in. Thread the needle. Yes, that's right. Here, let me show you how to begin." Ianto doubled the yarn to about a foot long. "Will you snip it for me please, right there?"

Alice gingerly picked up the scissors. Taking care to keep her thimble on her third finger, she snipped it and a bright smile broke over her face.

"That is fine. Now I make a knot at the end of this and then begin sewing a rather open pattern of parallel lines. Here, now you continue what I have begun until you get to the other side of the hole." Ianto handed the sock over to Alice who began to breathe in quick shallow breaths. "There is nothing to worry about. You cannot ruin these socks. Remember, we are mending. What can be done can be undone. Well, unless you take the scissors to the sock."

Alice gave a little smile and then her face became serious again. Tentatively, the little girl took a little stitch into the bottom of the hole and then drew the needle and thread across the gap and just as she tried to get the needle to come back out again, she dropped it.

Ianto understood Alice's frustration before she gave voice to it. "At first it feels foreign and your fingers feel like they are all thumbs. But soon there will be a rhythm and it all becomes second nature."

Alice kept her head bent and eyes focused making her needle do as she intended. Soon, she had made a dozen more or less parallel stitches that crossed the gap.

"That looks fine," Ianto said, proud of Alice's work. "What you are going to do now is to turn the sock 90 degrees and come back across those stitches. Now comes the fun part. You can dip the needle over and under those stitches, and alternate when you come back. In this way, you are building a weave. It is strong and keeps the sock from bunching. You wouldn't want your socks to have a knot or a bump at the heel or toe. This will all work to make a smooth patch."

Alice continued to work away at her task. Ianto watched her and thought this must have been how Sister Martha had felt when teaching Ianto the same lesson long ago. He remembered how awkward and complex it had felt at the beginning. Then, suddenly it was easy and even pleasurable to accomplish any sewing task.

"There, you've got it," Ianto murmured. "Now, let the needle fall and test your work. Do you see any places you have missed?"

"I think I see a gap there." Alice pointed to the spot with a discouraged voice.

"Then that is where you will go through once more. You can give the sock a quarter turn. When you can get to the other side, just tie off the stitching."

Ianto instructed Alice how to make a couple back stitches and leave a little loop and thread the needle through and pull it tight and make a knot.

"Don't cut it too closely," Ianto warned. "Take another shallow stitch, kind of slide your needle through the sock and come out about the length of the needle away. Now snip the thread. See? You have buried the end and it will look and hold better."

Alice did as she was told and looked back at Ianto expectantly.

Ianto smiled. "What a fine job. I don't think my first sock went quite so well. You are quick learner."

Alice's eyes lit up, her face softened and the corners of her mouth turned up slightly. At that moment, there was a sound at the door. Jack entered the house. Alice gave an involuntary gasp and quickly buried the evidence of her new lesson beneath her apron.

"What are you two doing?" Jack asked.

"N-nothing!" Alice stammered.

Jack frowned. "That won't do."

"I assure you we were not being idle. We're doing inside work," Ianto said. "What are you doing?"

Jack raised his brows, taken aback by Ianto's firm tone. Ianto winced, wishing he could take it back, but he didn't want to ruin Alice's surprise!

"Well, I have just come in for hot water," Jack explained. "Jax has taken over Alice's duty of making hot mash for Janet."

"Well, that sounds nice," Ianto replied.

Jack's scowl returned. He didn't look angry, more befuddled at finding Alice and Ianto sitting together at the table. Jack gave both of them a questioning look. Alice broke the silence, "I will bring out the water. Tell Jax I have not forgotten Janet's hot mash. It will be right out."

"Alright then. But you two are acting mighty mysterious," Jack said.

"No we're not!" Alice squeaked, making a sound that could, unfortunately, only be described as mighty mysterious.

Jack shook his head. "Well, you'll both be happy to know I don't have time to question you. There's a lot to get done before Christmas this year."

Alice and Ianto glanced at each other. He didn't know how right he was!

With that, Jack turned and went right back out the door.

"Alright, how quickly can we bring that water up to a boil?" Alice whispered. She looked at Ianto and suddenly they broke into laughter.


	5. thankful

The next day, the temperature dropped into the low twenties. Outside chores were limited to feeding the farm animals, gathering eggs and milking the cows. Jack couldn't get much done without harnessing the horse and wagon. It was useless to try anyway. He wouldn't risk injuring Buck pulling a wagon from town and back. He gave everyone leave to stay inside for the day.

Surely tomorrow it would be more hospitable.

Ianto didn't have to worry about what was going to keep Alice occupied. He had seen Alice gather the rag basket and the sewing bag and head back to her bedroom and shut the door. However, Jax was another matter. He sat at the table, swinging his legs and looking dreamily out the window. Ianto spied a block of wood in the kindling box. He walked over to him and quietly asked if he knew how to whittle.

"Of course. I have handled a knife since I was five," he assured him.

"Well then, I need your help on a project. Can you to make us a nice round shaped oval out of this block. Keep it mostly the same size, just round out the edges. After you do that, it needs to be sanded smooth as silk. Do you think you could do that?"

Jax took the block of wood out of Ianto's hand. "Of course I could. It might take me a few hours but I could do it."

"Could you just work quietly on this project? I happen to know that Alice needs an object just like this. Why, you could even give it to her for Christmas. It would make a very nice present. Would you like to do that?" Ianto asked innocently.

Jax's expression turned thoughtful. "I was wondering what to get her. Do you think she is gonna give me a present?"

Ianto smiled. "Yes, I'm sure she's going to give you something for Christmas."

The boy grinned from ear to ear. He walked to the stove and took out a buck knife from a tin box. Then, he moved his chair over to the fire and began to whittle away little strips of wood. Soon, a nice little pile had gathered at his feet.

Jack was seated in a chair reading. Every once in awhile his eyes peeped over the pages to watch their exchange.

The house was quiet and Ianto had a pot of soup going on the stove. He took a moment to envision where the tree would stand in the room. Closing his eyes, he inhaled deeply and imagined how the house would smell like green like sap.

His eyes whipped open. Wait, how would they decorate it? There were no glass ornaments, nor any little candles that one could clamp onto the branches.

Ianto's first Christmas at the orphanage had been the first Christmas he could remember. That first Christmas, Sister Martha told them that they were the luckiest children of all. Other children had their trees come ready-made. Theirs was to be created from their own hands.

Then, Sister Martha sat them at a table with a long piece of twine and a needle. In front of them were two big bowls: one filled with cranberries, the other filled with popcorn.

Ianto remembered trying to thread his needle through the cranberries, but they were slippery. He'd stabbed his finger more than once, and his hands had become stained with cranberry juice and perhaps a few drop of blood.

Sister Martha suggested that he thread popcorn instead. Ianto remembered doing this for a while, but then he tired of the project and just ate the popcorn. First he ate all the broken pieces that scattered in front of him, and then he ate every third piece of popcorn. Soon, though, all he did was smile and watch the older children at work, happily eating popcorn and humming along as they sang Christmas Carols. That first Christmas had also been his happiest.

Ianto smiled as he realized that the Harkness tree could be strewn with paper chains and long strands of popcorn. Their tree could be beautiful, even without ornaments and lights.

"Did I catch you wool gathering?" Jack's voice was just behind him. Ianto gave a little jump and spun around, flushing with exasperation.

"I didn't mean to startle you," he said quickly. "I was struck with the look of your face just now. Were you thinking fondly of something? I wanted to know what it was."

Right after he said this, he dipped his head down and glanced at the wood stove. Ianto suddenly got the impression that he'd rather be stoking the fire instead of getting tangled up with his thoughts.

"Yes, I guess I was. I was imagining where to put the Christmas tree and how it will be decorated."

Jack brushed his hand through his hair. It immediately sprung back over his forehead again. He had a boyish sort of hair that wouldn't behave. "I'm not sure the children care either way. We haven't had the need of a tree in several years. I don't think Jax was even old enough to remember having one. But, since you went out for a tree and Jax cut it down, I expect I can make a stand for it and set it where you'd like."

"Thank you," Ianto said. "I think the tree would look well in the corner, near the front window."

"That would be a fine spot for it. You know, a tree is thirsty. I think it should be in a bucket and then the stand would set around that."

"You think of everything. Could you make such a stand?" Ianto asked, suddenly warmed by the fact Jack had offered to help.

"Jax and I can rig something along those lines. It will work but I can't guarantee it will be pretty," he said.

"It will be pretty, no matter if you place it in a commode," Ianto replied before he realized quite what he had said.

Jack's eyes grew wide.

Ianto giggled. "In any event, it will bring in the smell of sap and greens and will be magical."

All of a sudden Jack's face fell, "Then the children will expect presents. I don't often go to town and never shop beyond necessities."

"Don't you worry. I have the children working on their own presents. Jax is making something for Alice, Alice is making something for you. That leaves you to think of something for Jax."

Jack gave him a quiet look. Scratching behind his head, he said, "But that leaves you out of rotation."

"I have received more than I expected already. I just want us to have a real Christmas."

"That isn't enough," Jack whispered. "You cannot do for other people, and expect nothing for yourself."

Ianto sucked in a breath, unsure of how to proceed. He had given him so much already. In fact, all of the Harkness' had. Each day with them was a gift, didn't they see that?

"Ianto?" he prompted.

Ianto exhaled slowly. "I truly am grateful for this life you have chosen to share with me, Jack Harkness. This time last year, I feared I would have to spend the rest of my Christmases alone. Sister Martha and the others would have always welcomed me, yes, but I did not want to impose on them. And also, there was a deeper, selfish reason. I wanted, more than anything, to have a true home and family of my own."

Jack said nothing. Ianto's heart pounded furiously in his chest. He knew that Jack viewed their relationship as purely functional and that he did not want to allow Ianto into his heart. Opening up like this made Ianto vulnerable, and, more importantly, imposed on Jack's generosity.

"I do not mean to make you uncomfortable, Jack," Ianto added quickly. "I knew what I was getting into when I accepted your offer. I just want you to know that it is more than satisfactory. In fact, it is more than I wished for."

Jack sighed. "That just makes me feel worse, Ianto, because it isn't much. A fella like you…" he shut his eyes. "A man like you," he began again, "deserves more than that."

Ianto was surprised at the sudden heat flooding his cheeks. Was he blushing? He touched his cheek, finding it surprisingly warm. Yes, he was blushing. Oh dear. Thankfully, Jack wasn't looking at him! As soon as he had that thought, his deep blue eyes rose to meet Ianto's once more. Ianto suddenly felt as hot as a squealing teapot.

"What do you want for Christmas, Ianto?" he asked.

Ianto did not know what to say, and for a moment, he did not even know if he could speak. The way he looked at him made his tummy feel rather strange. The strangest thing about this feeling, though, was the fact that he sort of liked it.

This time it was his turn to shut his eyes during his response. "There is something that I do want, but it is a selfish wish," he began honestly. "More than that, it is something I promised myself I would not speak of. Please, do not ask me again and tempt me to break my promise."

"What is it?" he asked.

"What did I just tell you?" Ianto stammered. He tried to be good, but Jack did not have limitless willpower.

"I am asking you what you want, Ianto Harkness," he said softly.

Ianto gasped. That was the first time he'd ever heard him refer to him as a Harkness.

"I do not want you to hide something like this from me," he continued. "So no matter what it is, I want to hear it, even if it is something that I previously said I did not want to hear. Ianto, what do you want for Christmas?"

Ianto's heart soared. His kind words meant so much to him. Did he really mean them? Did he have the strength to speak them?

"Alright then. I would like, more than anything this Christmas, to go to visit with the Smith Family. They did invite us after all." Ianto said softly "You used to visit with them, they miss the children."

Jack frowned, but said nothing. Slowly, he turned away from him and walked back to his book. Ianto couldn't move. What did his sudden departure mean? Had he upset him? Had he done something wrong? He put his hand over his swiftly beating heart, trying to steady it, but it would not steady. Too many emotions were coursing through him. Confusion. Fear. Hope.

Yes, hope.

No matter what the future held for him, Ianto had faith.

Christmas truly was the season of miracles. Jack, who was so hard-working and so capable of love, deserved one. Ianto closed his eyes and made his Christmas wish. It was one that was filled with faith and family and, most of all, love.

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The heavy winds did not subside until the sun was beginning to set, leaving the last light of day bitterly cold. Ianto looked up at the pink and turquoise sky over his soup. He saw Jax was working on a very rounded out piece of wood. He walked back to Alice's room and knocked quietly.

"Alice, it's probably time for Janet's hot mash. You'll want to get back from the barn before it gets dark."

"Oh, thanks. I've been darning socks. They are nearly all done," Alice whispered.

"You are probably an expert by now," Ianto noted. "Your father is asleep, I want you to come out quietly and not disturb him."

Ianto then walked over to Jax and leaned over his shoulder. "That's fine work you are doing. It is time to go out and do your evening chores. If you leave the house quietly, your father might get to sleep until supper."

Jax looked up, his mouth and eyes opened wide. Sure enough, Jack was sprawled out in his chair with his head off to the side, covering his eyes with the back of his forearm. Jax gave Ianto a conspiratorial smile and quietly bundled up along with Alice. They shut the front door with a minimum of sound. Ianto gave them both a wink while Jack continued to sleep.

By the time supper was ready, Alice and Jax had returned from their errands. After taking off their coats, the children huddled around the stove trying to warm their frozen hands.

A gust of cold wind and noise of the door closing woke Jack. He blinked as if he was in a daze, and his face was flushed pink. Clearly he was not in the habit of napping.

"Why did you let me sleep?" Jack asked no one in particular.

"It looked like you needed some rest," Ianto said.

"Did all the chores get done?" Jack asked.

"All done." "Yes." Alice and Jax chorused.

Jack still didn't look fully satisfied. He was the kind of man who loathed to rest until everything that needed doing was finished. Ianto respected that, but also understood that such men often needed rest the most.

"Alright children, wash up and come to supper. I don't want these biscuits getting cold," Ianto said in a mock bossy tone. Then, he winked at the children who could barely contain their giggles, for Jack's unexpected nap had a secondary benefit: it had allowed Alice and Jax to work on their presents for him undisturbed.

By the time he'd laid the table everyone was in their chairs. Ianto sat down and spread out his napkin on his lap. Jax reached for a biscuit before Jack's voice cut him off.

"Wait a moment young man, let's all settle and look at this fine meal!" Jack scolded softly.

"Can we eat yet?" Jax asked.

"No. Well, Ianto? I would like to thank you for this wonderful meal. Thank you" Jack said gently and Ianto blinked with surprise and delight.

Ianto laughed. "Wait a moment, Jax. I would like each of us to go around the table and say something we are thankful for."

Jax tried to stifle his groan, but failed. Alice, however, took the lead.

"I'm thankful for Janet," Alice said. "She is such a wonderful horse, and I'm sorry she's going through a tough time. I like bringing her mush. I hope she will be okay."

"Janet will be fine," Jack said. "And I'm sure if she could talk, she would be thankful for you for bringing her mush."

Alice smiled sweetly at her father.

"What about me?" Jax asked.

Alice glared at her brother. "What do you mean?"

"Aren't you thankful for me?" Jax asked.

Alice rolled her eyes. "Fine. And Jax. Sort of."

"What is that supposed to mean?" Jax asked.

"Come on you two," Jack interjected. "Maybe you should go next, Jax."

Jax nodded, suddenly sombre. "I'm thankful for the tree I chopped down myself. And for Ianto and Alice and Buck for coming out with me. And for father for helping us get the tree off the wagon."

"Oh, I'm thankful for Ianto too," Alice interrupted. Then, her cheeks went pink, as if she was startled by what she'd just said. "And father. And Buck. And the tree. The tree is going to be so pretty when father puts it up," she added softly.

"It certainly will," Jack said.

There was a moment of silence as all three waited, wondering if Jack was going to join in. With a heavy sigh, he murmured. "I suppose it's my turn. I'm thankful to see Alice and Jax smile again. And though I don't understand it, and it's just going to be more work, I'm thankful for that tree, because I'm pretty sure that tree has something to do with their good mood."

Then, he looked up at Ianto. "But most of all, I'm glad that Ianto was the one who answered my letter, because ham hock and bean soup is my favourite and boy can he cook."

Ianto felt another blush blooming on his cheeks. "Well … I am thankful for my new home and new family. You are all more than I hoped for."

Jax was oblivious to his discomfort, "Isn't it time to eat?"

"Yes, son," Jack laughed. His bright eyes rose across the table to meet Ianto's, and this time they did not look away. "Let's enjoy this beautiful meal."

Ianto tried not to look at him too often as they ate, his handsome smile blindingly sweet.


	6. oh Alice

The next day was still bitterly cold. Yesterday's storm had left the ground covered with a dusting of snow, light as feathers. After Jack and Jax finished their chores, Jax came in and took the rifle off the wall. He flashed a smile at Alice and Ianto and dashed back outdoors. It was a miracle the boy could see beneath the brim of his father's hat. Jax could use a stocking cap. So could Jack, for that matter.

Ianto went to his green velvet bag with the bone handle. He gathered a couple skeins of wool and two circular needles. "Alice, would you like a lesson in how to knit?"

Alice came right over and together they sat upon the sofa near the stove. Ianto divided his supplies and then began, "The first thing you'll need to know is how to cast on your stitches."

Ianto's fingers were nimble and quick, making looping motions around the tip of the needle and repeating them until he had made half a dozen. Then he handed the needle and yarn to Alice and let her try to do the same. Alice's fingers were unsure and stiff, but she cast on one and then another loops.

"This is harder than it looks. What if I make a mistake?" she worried aloud.

"No matter," Ianto said softly. "Knitting is very forgiving. You can always unravel and correct a mistake. All you need to do is pay close attention for a while and then suddenly the movements become second nature."

Alice continued making loops around her needle, splaying the thread between the fingers of her left hand.

"There, you've got enough now," Ianto said as he took the needle from Alice. "Now I can show you how to knit."

Ianto took the needles in one hand and threaded the yarn around his index finger and trailed the slack around his pinky finger. "So, now enter the cast-on stitch, crossing below with the left hand needle's tip. With your left index finger, throw an extra loop around that stitch. See how the needle tips are crossing and the left hand needle looks like there are two stitches there? Now, as you slightly raise the tip of the needle in your left hand, you slowly retract your right hand. These are small movements, just enough to transfer over the doubled yarn. I know it looks and sounds complicated but just watch me make a few stitches."

Alice watched Ianto's fingers so closely that Ianto felt Alice's warm breath upon his hands.

"Alright, now I am going to hand this over for you to practice. Remember, there is nothing that can go wrong that can't be made right. At first it feels very strange, but trust me, you will soon have your needles flying and see that this can be such fun," Ianto said. He handed over the circular affair, and showed Alice where to hold the needles. He threaded the yarn through Alice's left hand and instructed her step by step in what she should do.

Patiently, she repeated the same instructions. Again and again, he helped Alice guide her needle into the stitches in the pattern of passing one needle beneath and adding a loop of thread and then slipping that stitch onto the left hand's needle again and again. Alice's confidence grew, even if she forgot what came next, Ianto gently reminded her or guided her hand. With repetition, which was the essence of knitting, Alice's hands gradually became committed to the pattern. Then she was knitting all on her own. Ianto waited until Alice finished a whole row without the need of a prompt or reminder.

"You have it. You are knitting. That's all there is to it. Look how far you've come," Ianto pointed to Alice's progress. "Your hat is two inches long!"

Alice looked from her knitting and back to Ianto. Her eyes shone with pride and her smile widened. She turned back to her knitting and her index finger kept plying the thread while her needles met and separated with regularity.

Ianto smiled to himself and began making another hat himself. Soon they were stitching away happily, heads down, hands full of industry. They made a bit of small talk and before they knew it, the daylight altered and it was afternoon.

"Look, I've made such progress. You can tell it's a hat!" Alice exclaimed. "I think this one will be for father."

"It is excellently made. Then mine will be for Jax." Ianto replied. "But where are they? They have been gone for quite some time."

Just at that moment Ianto could hear Buck give a whiney. He looked out the window and saw Jack and Jax tramping back to the house. Jack had the rifle cracked over his shoulder and Jax held a bundle of something slung over his shoulder as well. Ianto imagined how cold they must be. He got up and quickly went to the stove and added another log. He filled a kettle with water and set it on the heat for tea just as he heard their footsteps on the porch. They burst into the house with a gust of cold wind and a small flurry of feathery down snow.

"You must be nearly frozen, you two," Ianto exclaimed.

"I shot a snowshoe rabbit," Jax cried out. "First we spotted his tracks and then I saw him hopping. I got him on the second shot."

"Let's warm up our hands for a minute and then you and I will go back out and flay him and we will have the best rabbit stew you've ever eaten," Jack said as he patted Jax proudly on his back.

Jax handed off the limp rabbit to Ianto who, without thinking, clung to its hind legs and dangled upside down from his hand. Jack looked at him and gave a laugh, "It looks like you've never held a rabbit before. Have you ever cooked one?"

"No, but I imagine they aren't much different than chicken," Ianto said with a stunned and blank look on his face.

"No, not so much different than chicken. Except they have a whole lot of little bones. We are all in for a rare treat," Jack said with a wide smile covering his face.

Ianto continued to stare at him and then became aware that he was still holding the rabbit's hind legs. He must look a sight. He turned and hastily laid the long white creature upon the counter. Its body was pliable and the white fur was so soft. His hand absently stroked it. He looked up and Jax was busy warming his hands at the stove and stamping his feet to get the blood moving again.

Jack gave him a curious look and then turned and joined Jax at the stove.

"Get out of your wet clothes and come help me skin and gut the rabbit," Jack said to Jax. Jax quickly took off his outer clothes and slipped into his oversized boots and coveralls. Soon Ianto and Alice were busy in the kitchen. Ianto had gone to the cellar to get an onion wrapped in muslin, cool and dry in its box of sawdust shavings. He found a few carrots and brought them up as well. He replaced the trap door and saw that Alice had taken the big cast iron pot from the wall.

"How does your father like his rabbit prepared?" Ianto asked.

"We make it like fried chicken," said Alice.

They poured a quantity of bacon fat into the deep pan, set aside a pie tin with a good quantity of flour for dredging and awaited the rabbit's return.

Jax came in with a longer, scrawnier pink carcass that in no way resembled the same animal that had gone outside. Jax proudly handed his day's work to Ianto who laid it on the cutting board and chopped it into sections.

Alice dredged it in flour and soon the cabin smelt of hot oil and spatters.

Jack came back in and went right over to his chair and shoved a few things into his personal trunk. Ianto was just about ready to tell the men to wash up when they came over and did just that. Alice left Ianto to finish frying the last few pieces while she set the table. Ianto took out the last few pieces with a slotted spoon and the oval platter was heaped with fried rabbit. He brought the dish to the table where everyone was seated.

Jax gave him a smile and grabbed a big broad piece of rabbit and a biscuit. Ianto looked over at Jack who nodded to him and said, "Well, eat it up. Rabbit tastes best when it's hot."

Ianto took a nibble from his narrow long piece and indeed it did taste like chicken. He noticed Jack watching when he took a larger bite and his face got all screwed up as he realized that mixed in with the sweet tender meat there were tiny bones. He worked one to the front of his mouth and slipped it out only to find the next time he chewed, he found two or three more. He had never worked so hard for anything he'd ever eaten. By the time he had swallowed that bite he had fished four little bones, the size of toothpicks, out of his mouth. He looked up again. Jack's face looked fit to burst. Then he let out a great laugh and the children joined in.

"You've never had fried rabbit, have you?" Jack said.

"No, I don't believe I've had the pleasure." Ianto said.

"There is nothing so tasty as rabbit and nothing so darned hard to eat," Jack said. "There is no trick to it. If you don't get a flat broad piece, there is nothing for it but to pick it apart on the plate with your fingers. Try to get as many little bones out before you take a bite of it."

"So now you tell me!" Ianto said with mock indignation.

"I had to watch you work it out for yourself. You were a sight. Trying to eat like a gentleman with a mouth full of little bones. It just can't be done. Rabbit is the most indelicate delicacy man was ever given to eat. Everyone spends more time with their fingers in the meat than putting meat into their stomach."

After that explanation, and the long laugh that followed, Ianto warmed up to the task of eating rabbit. It was delicious meat but each morsel was a little battle, hard won. There was no dignified way to eat fried rabbit. Even so, it was the most enjoyable dinner Ianto had ever eaten.

Jax was so proud that he had bagged game for their dinner. Alice and Jack claimed it was the best fried rabbit ever. Once dinner was cleared away and the dishes were done, Ianto suggested that they begin stringing popcorn for the Christmas tree. While the popcorn was cooking, Jax gathered up coloured paper, mostly from an old shopping catalogue, and tore those pages into thin long strips. Alice worked a mixture of flour and water into a paste and brought that to the table. Soon the three of them were busy either gluing together strips into a paper chain or stringing popcorn. Before bedtime there were enough lengths to decorate the entire tree. Ianto asked Jack how the tree stand was coming.

"Jax, you and I can finish that tomorrow. Then we'll set up the tree in the house," Jack said.

Ianto saw Jax and Alice steal looks at each other and smile. Jack may have noticed that as well, for he winked at Ianto. He set upon cleaning the dining table with all his energy, he had to get to that wet paste before the glue had a chance to dry on the table. Then he swept the floor to carefully remove any stray popcorn or kernels behind.

All the lengths of decoration were laid upon his arm chair, patiently awaiting their purpose. The children had gone to bed. Jack was seated at his favourite chair for the night, thumbing through a farm catalogue. It was time for Ianto to go to bed and Ianto softly told Jack, "Goodnight," before he retired.

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The day began with a sense of urgency. This was the last day to get everything ready for Christmas. There still seemed so much to do. Ianto didn't need to remind either child to get up and do their chores. Alice happily bounded out of bed and set a pot of water on the stove to boil. Jax got up and was out the door before Alice finished making Janet's mash. Soon the door slammed again and Ianto was alone in the house. He had biscuits to make for the day and he also needed to prepare an overnight dough for Christmas day.

The house was quiet and it smelled a mixture of yeast dough and flour, sap and pine. Ianto wiped the flour from his hands upon his apron. He looked out the window to see if anyone was about. He could see no one. He took off his thin leather boots, which now had been relegated to being house shoes. He put on larger heavy boots, added a sweater and a jacket, and headed outdoors himself. He decided to take a look in the barn and see how the mare and Alice were doing.

Ianto stepped into the dark stable, there was a window near the middle toward the back that let in some light. That was near Janet's stall. It was quiet and smelled sweetly of hay mixed with the scent of leather and an earthy smell of animals. The quiet made it seem empty. Ianto looked in at the stall and there was Alice trying to comfort Janet. The mare lifted herself with effort out of the fresh straw. She stood only for a moment and then paced and circled around the stall. Alice looked up at Ianto and her face was drawn and worried.

"Why is Janet so anxious? I can't get her to stand still," said Alice.

Janet suddenly stopped and lowered down to lay upon her side. This caused her ribs and abdomen to shift off to one side and look disproportionately larger. Her stomach was greatly bloated and the whites of her eyes showed distress. Ianto rushed in to kneel beside Alice and he was conscious that he must remain calm and in control of her emotions for everyone's sake.

Ianto knelt drew his hand across the mare's belly, flank and rump.

"Can you help Janet? She has been up and down for a couple of hours," Alice said. "I'm afraid there is something wrong."

"Looks like she is close to foaling," said Ianto. He made soft soothing noises, whether for Janet or for Alice, it didn't matter. Ianto's hand felt for the edges of the foal inside. Was it breech? He scooted around to see how much Janet was dilated and then Janet shifted and a pink tinged spill of liquid that spread upon the straw bed.

"Is she bleeding? Oh, what is wrong?" Alice began to panic.

"Why don't you go out and find your father and bring him back here. Janet and I will be alright until you get back. Go on dear," Ianto said softly as he pushed the child out of the stall.

Ianto considered it might be a mare's equivalent to "water breaking." It certainly wasn't a sign of bleeding. Still, he had never witnessed a child's birth let alone the birth of a foal. He silently prayed for Jack's swift appearance and for the safe delivery of Janet's foal. Ianto comforted the mare the best he knew how. He reminded himself to be strong. Soon the stall door opened and Jack knelt alongside him. His presence alone comforted him and gave him courage. Jack made soothing noises that served to quiet all those present. Ianto leaned in and saw there was what looked to be a hoof protruding from Janet's womb. Ianto looked over to Jack. He had already moved to lend his hands to the enterprise. He rubbed Janet's flanks firmly in short strokes. He then asked Ianto to perform the hand rubbing for him.

Ianto complied immediately, steeling his nerves. Now was not the time for hysterics. He thought of Alice's love for the horse and of all the evenings and mornings she'd dutifully fed the mare mash. Janet was a part of the family, and Ianto would do his duty to protect and aid her.

Ianto stroked Janet's flanks just as he'd asked. Jack knelt behind Janet's flanks and helped to bring the foal along. It was a difficult task, but he also was motivated. Ianto marvelled at his focus and patience. Sweat collected on Ianto's brow. His shoulders felt tense, but he ignored the ache. He, too, would come through.

Slowly, a little foal slipped out of Janet and onto the straw, helped along by Jack. With her front feet propped on the straw, Janet's upper body arched in effort to lick the newborn foal. The foal itself had only enough energy to raise its head. Its sticky wet coat looked like it was made with matted feathers.

Alice came around and knelt between Ianto and her father. Her eyes were wide with wonder, and her face shone with happiness. Alice smiled at Ianto, "Thank you. I was so afraid I would lose her."

Ianto brushed his hand over the top of Alice's head and absently pulled back a hank of hair that covered her eyes. Then he gave Alice's shoulder a squeeze. The three of them sat for a moment, captivated by the sight of Janet licking her newborn. The newborn foal struggled to stand and nurse because his legs were awkward and overly long.

Alice gave a soft laugh that expressed her relief and happiness. Ianto laughed as well and looked over at Jack who had been watching both of them. Blushing, Ianto took note of how messy he had become. All of them were damp, dirty and had straw stuck to their clothes.

"Come on, let's wash up. There is more to this day than a simple foaling." Jack said.

Alice, however, did not want to go. "I'll stay just a little longer. I can't bear to leave them."

Jack held the stall door open for Ianto and he led him through the darkened barn. Once outside, he motioned for him to follow him around the backside of the barn towards the pig yards.

Jax dug his pitchfork into scraps and tossed them across the yard. He wore old coveralls of a heavy broadcloth and shoes much too large for his feet. Hungry pigs came towards him. The biggest ones were in front. Smaller ones tried to squeeze in between the spaces. Jax tried to throw scraps over their heads to give the smaller ones a chance. He tried to stay out of their yard but sometimes he had to step into the pen with them. This feeding was a distraction, so that they would pay attention to food and leave him alone.

Jack had two hammers in his hand and carried a board. He called to Jax, "I need your help replacing that rail."

Jax cut through the pig pen at the centre and leaned his pitchfork against the post. By the time Ianto had caught up to them, they were both hammering on the rail, Jax from the inside the pen and Jack from the outside.

He marvelled, watching back and forth, between the man and the boy who was a postage stamp sized image of the same coin. Jack looked up and caught him smiling. Ianto was taken by surprise at being unexpectedly seen.

"I have been here just under a week and so far, and I'm not really sure there is such a thing as an ordinary day at the Harkness farm," he called out in a good natured voice.

"As far as today and this foaling, no, to tell the truth, this has never happened before," Jack replied.

Jax's eyes suddenly lit up. He squirmed and held himself back long enough to say, "Janet had her foal? Can I go see now?"

"Yes son, you run along now. It is still brand new to this world. Go and see it. Maybe you can give Alice a hand as well."

Jax may have missed hearing the last phrase. He leaped like a frog. One moment he was bent over in the mud and the next he was flinging himself over the rail. The sudden separation of his huge shoes coming out of the heavy sludge made a loud suction sound. He was so eager he nearly ran out of his oversized mud covered boots. His frantic effort to run in two sets of overalls made a sound like wet sails in the wind. No excess of outerwear could restrain him.

Ianto watched his comical figure retreat and enter the barn. He realized now he and Jack were alone. "You have a wonderful family, Jack."

"I'm glad to hear you say that. I've wanted them to have a woman's influence. Growing up without a mother is difficult. When you answered instead I wondered if another man might be more help … they do so much for small ones. Now you are here, they don't need to suffer."

"What are you saying? No one should have to suffer," Ianto turned toward him with a frown.

"After a while, it becomes a habit, I suppose," said Jack.

"I know all about habits," said Ianto. "Remember, I grew up in an orphanage and was raised by Sister Martha."

"I guess you do. I just meant to say that with you coming to us, they won't have to suffer. I just wonder whether this arrangement suits you too," said Jack. He ran his hand through his hair and blew out air threw his nose. He looked for all the world like an animal himself, testing the air to see whether to run or to stand.

"I told you at the station that I was used to hard work. You can trust me to keep my word. Your letter gave me a choice. I could stay and be a burden at the orphanage or I could chose to make a difference in your family's life. I volunteered to come here, and you asked. It was my choice. I don't see this new life as cause for suffering" Ianto said.

"I know Ianto. We made this bargain before you knew anything about us. I was just wondering if you had any change of heart since coming here," Jack had both hands firmly on the rail and his eyes stared ahead. They didn't seem focused on anything in particular.

"We made a bargain. I keep my word. I wasn't promised love and you weren't promised anything but a carer for your children," Ianto replied. He took a step away from Jack, surprised at his speech, a little out of breath.

What had brought that on?

Why did he insist upon repeating the promise he had made to Jack when they just met. The disconnect between this promise and how he felt about this family and what he'd wanted in his deepest heart? Was his confusion due to being in proximity to this kind and quiet man? In the barn, he had seemed so sure of himself, his hands were strong and deft.

This was the first time they had spoken to each other directly about their 'arrangement'. Why had he been so adamant? He hadn't expected to care so soon. His heart ached for the children and he was becoming mesmerized by this tall lean man who was his husband in name alone.

Suddenly, he realized that he wanted more than just the duties of a carer for his children. He wanted to be needed and necessary not only to the children but for Jack as well.

Patience, it all takes patience. Patience, however, wasn't his strong suit.

"I need to get back to the house and check on the biscuits," Ianto finally said. It took all his strength to walk back to the house. He dared not look back or talk to Jack any further. He feared that all the good things he was trying to do would work against him somehow.

What would Sister Martha say? Well, that was easy to figure out. Sister Martha would tell him to stop, because none of this was about him. He was called to help them … they weren't obliged to take care of him. But standing on the sidelines was difficult when Ianto had grown so attached to the children and to Jack. Being an orphan himself, these motherless children tugged at his heartstrings. All his life, he had longed for stability, a family to call his own, and a home. He had always dreamed that there was a place where he belonged, with people who weren't interchangeable. People whom he could call his own.

Ianto focused on his soup until it began to boil. Then, he moved the pot to the front edge of the stove and reached inside the door and banked the wood all to the backside. Now the soup could simmer and be left alone.

But what was he to do?

A quick glance around Jack's home showed him everything was clean and in its place. The place had been transformed since he first arrived and found everything was dirty and covered in dust. The house had always been solid and warm, but now it was clean and inviting. There was a tree, decorated by their own hands, stationed in the stand that Jack and Jax had built. Homemade presents lay beneath it, wrapped in colourful scraps of fabric and tied with twine.

Ianto doubted his heart had ever felt so full. He brought his hand to his chest, inhaling deeply the scent of fresh pine and simmering soup. He was positively simmering herself. No, he was brimming over with gratitude and happiness.

Jack had given him so much.

Ianto glanced out the windows. Jack and the children were still doing their part. He needed to continue to do his part, as well.

Ianto decided to go check on Jax and Alice. When he entered the barn, he saw that all the old straw had been removed and replaced so the new mamma and her foal had a clean stall. Janet had licked him down and his coat was dry and fluffy. They both had clean blankets cinched to their backs. A gray. The foal nursed and Alice sat in the corner of the stall on a bale of hay with a dreamy peaceful face. Jax leaned against the stall with his face pressed between the slats.

Jax had apparently carted the old straw away and fed it to the pigs, much to their delight. Alice quietly kept watch. Both children delighted to watch the new life in their midst and sought to protect and nurture it. In the coming days there would be many extra chores for both children but from the looks on their faces, they were glad of the opportunity.

Alice glanced up at Ianto. "I didn't see you come in," she said.

Ianto smiled. "You were busy."

Alice wiped her eyes. "I still have work to do."

Ianto raised his eyebrows.

"Ianto," she began slowly, "Will you come with me back into the house? There is something I'd like to do together."

Ianto nodded, following the young girl back to the house. Once inside, Alice excused herself to her room, and then came back with her knitting.

"How do I finish this hat?" she asked.

Ianto couldn't have been happier to show her. "Come, sit with me. I'll get my knitting out and together we will finish both hats."

They sat together on Lucia's faded old settee and Ianto showed Alice how to cast off the stitches, one by one, until the hat was released from the knitting needles and stood on its own.

"Now you tie a knot at the last stitch and with a darning needle, you feed the loose thread back into the body of the hat. There. That looks perfect."

Alice looked up to Ianto and her face beamed with pride.

"Just look at that beautiful hat. Your father will appreciate it even more because it was made by your hands," Ianto said.

"I could never have done it without you. Thank you Ta, uh, Ianto."

"Do you want to practice some more? I still haven't cast off Jax's hat. Here, you work on mine and I will go find something to wrap up these gifts."

Ianto left Alice bent over his work, giving her opportunity to repeat the lesson that she had just learned, but this time without reminders or prompts. Ianto felt sure that Alice had mastered the process. He went to the closet and picked out two bandanas and some twine.

However, when he returned, Alice was no longer working. Ianto crouched next to the girl. Ianto saw that Alice's eyes were glassy and, for a moment, his heart stopped. "What's wrong Alice?"

Alice was silent for a few moments. Finally, in a soft voice she choked out, "I'm sorry."

Ianto placed a hand on the girl's shoulder. He didn't need to ask what Alice was sorry about. He already knew.

"I told you that I've already forgiven you," Ianto whispered.

Alice cringed. "That just makes it worse."

"No, it doesn't," Ianto said. "It only means that you must forgive yourself."

"You're so nice to me," she whimpered. "I was so mean, and you're still so nice. Why?"

Ianto rubbed Alice's back. "You're young, Alice. And, more than that, you've been through more than any little girl should go through."

"So did you. You didn't even have your mom," Alice cried. "And what I said was a lie. She would have loved you. She should have loved you."

"Everyone makes mistakes," Ianto said. "You should learn from your mistakes, but not let them govern your actions. Use them to become more compassionate, not to revel in your guilt."

Alice sniffled, rubbing her eyes. "But aren't you mad at me for the things I said?"

"I do not delight in your sorrow," Ianto told the girl, and then Alice did something that Ianto never would have expected. In fact, something that Ianto never would have even dreamed could happen.

She hugged him.

Alice's little arms wrapped around Ianto's body, and Ianto felt as if he were being surrounded by light and beauty. A part of him had always thought he wasn't worth it. Not even wanted by his own mother. Abandoned. Sometimes, the hardest and most important thing to do was to forgive yourself.

"Forgive yourself," Ianto whispered, holding Alice tighter. But the words were for Alice as much as they were for himself. The two of them hugged one another, delighting in mercy, delighting in forgiveness, delighting in new love.

"Thank you," Alice whispered into Ianto's shoulder. "Thank you for being my Taddy. I'm so happy you are here, and I'm sorry if I ever made anything difficult for you."

Ianto smiled as tears ran down his face. "You do not make anything difficult, little one. You make everything worthwhile."

Slowly, Ianto pulled away. Tenderly, he wiped the tears from under Alice's eyes. "Now, let's get these gifts ready."

Alice nodded enthusiastically, giving him a short nervous laugh. Then, they got to work. By the time Jax and Jack had come back into the house two more presents were tucked beneath the tree.


	7. gifts

Ianto woke with his heart pounding with excitement. It was Christmas day. Dawn had broken and Ianto could make out the sky turning from slate to a paler shade of grey. Free of clouds and crisp as dried laundry, the day spread out wide like a starched sheet.

Quickly, he got out of bed and dressed. His breath came out in gusts of vapour. How cold it had turned overnight! Hopefully the newborn foal and his recovering mother were warm. He hastened to pull on his woollen socks and Lucia's boots. Then, he splashed a bit of water on his face, pulled a brush through his hair, and drew a coat over the thin jacket. It was time to start a fire in the stove.

As soon as he entered the main room, the smell of pine and sap and popcorn met his nose. Smiling, he looked over at the noble fir tree standing upright and stiff in its stand. Since the sun was below the western ridge, the morning light was diffuse. Soon enough, the children would wake, do their chores, want breakfast, and then gather round the Christmas tree to see what those presents contained.

He was just as full of anticipation as the children. Not for what was under the tree, for he was certain that he knew the inventory. No, he was eager to see their faces and experience Christmas once again through their young eyes. Today was his chance to make a difference in these children's lives. Ianto might not have received much of a formal education, but he did know the true meaning of Christmas. It was something he intended to share with his new family, for everyone deep down needed and deserved love.

Ianto began with breakfast. He went to the shelf and lifted the muslin cloth from the bowl. The sourdough had doubled in size overnight. The sponge was exactly like its name, little bubbles of dough dimpled over its contour like the surface of the moon. Perfect.

He reached for a shaker of cinnamon sugar and another shaker of flour. He turned out the sponge and breathed in its yeasty fragrance. He kneaded the dough into the floured board, pressed it down in a rough circle, and coated it with cinnamon sugar. Rolling it up and folding in the ends, he began kneading it again. He pressed it into a flat disc and poured on the spicy sugar until it threatened to spill over. His arms began to feel warm and tired, but now was not the time to rest. Instead, he manipulated the dough into a long roll and then took a knife and cut the log into two inch discs. Each circle had a spiral of sweet spice. Finally, he arranged the rolls on a wide tin sheet, covered them with muslin cloth and left them to rise on the warming shelf.

Alice was the first to wake. She came into the kitchen and sniffed the air. A wide smile spread over her lips and she dashed over to Ianto to peek beneath the muslin cloth.

"Don't touch, you'll disturb the rise," Ianto said. "I've got some water on the boil for Janet's hot mash."

"That's right. It's Christmas and Janet has a foal. Oh Ianto, this is the most exciting day. I can't wait to see Jax and father's face when they open their presents."

"And we need to celebrate Christmas **.** Our morning is so full. I hope we aren't rushing through it," murmured Ianto.

"No, I can't wait to celebrate the whole day. But first I'll feed Janet and look in on the foal. I've decided to name him Snowfall."

"Very good. Here is the hot mash."

Ianto watched Alice carry the small bucket outside.

Snow blanketed the ground, so the little girl had to navigate through a few inches of white in order to get to the barn. The snow was why everything was so diffuse and bright even though the sun hadn't actually risen.

"It's beautiful," Ianto whispered.

"What did you say?" Jax asked, walking into the kitchen.

"It has snowed," Ianto said, turning.

"It snowed?" The boy yelled excitedly. "On Christmas day?"

His smile was so wide that his adult upper teeth showed their serrated edges. Racing to the coat rack, Jax grabbed his coat and his father's hat. He shoved his feet into the oversized boots.

"Be careful!" Ianto called out as Jax ripped open the door, letting in a gust of cold wind.

He looked back and gave Ianto a bright smile over his shoulder. "I will!"

Seconds later, the door closed and he was alone. Ianto walked to the window and scanned the farm for a sight of Jack. He wondered how early he had risen and what he was doing. He watched Jax lumber over to the pig sty, with his oversized boots taking steps that seemed impossibly spaced. He even walked like Jack he realized with a smile and his breath gave a little hitch. He swallowed hard and rubbed his hands briskly on his thighs.

Ianto checked on the rolls. They had nearly doubled in size. He opened the oven and spread the coals out evenly with a poker and then placed the sheet above the coals on a metal riser that kept them from actually touching the embers. He shut the door and told himself to remove them in thirty minutes.

One always knew they were ready by the wonderful smell of cinnamon and sugar wafting in the air.

Ianto went outside to check the chicken coop. he opened the door and ducked down inside. His hands searched out each and every nest. The hens seemed to

cluck tisk-tisk as he disturbed their winter naps. There were fewer eggs today than last week. He saw evidence of feathers on the straw nests, and even more upon the floor. They were moulting and the eggs would be fewer and fewer for the next month or so. This was the time for them to rest and gather their strength. They deserved it for giving so much. More than that, they needed it. They looked a sorry lot right now, shabby with patches of worn feathers covering them.

However, it wouldn't be like this for them too much longer. In a few months they would return to their usual yield, looking dignified and lush with bright feathers. Ianto was happy the hens hadn't completely stopped laying yet.

"Thank you, dears! You have made our Christmas breakfast one of joy and delight. Sorry to disturb, go back to your naps." Ianto was in such a good mood he didn't even worry about conversing with chickens. As he crossed the yard with his bounty, he spied Jack attaching the harness to the wagon. The leather positively glowed from being freshly cleaned and oiled.

"Looking mighty supple," he said with a bright voice.

"You don't look so bad yourself this fine morning," Jack said.

"Oh, I was talking about the leather harness. It seems transformed." Immediately, Ianto turned pink and stammered. Why had he spoken to him like that?

"Today of all days, Buck wants to look his best," Jack told him.

Ianto couldn't help but frown. Why would that matter? Was it because Jack was finally being touched by the Christmas spirit? He decided to play along. Jack's goodwill and pride deserved to be acknowledged and supported.

"Is he going somewhere?" Ianto asked.

Jack looked down, smiling slowly. "Maybe. That depends on you."

Now Ianto was very confused. "What do you mean?"

Jack patted Buck's back. "You'll see," he said. "It isn't time yet."

"It isn't time yet for what?" Ianto couldn't help but ask.

"You'll see," Jack said, giving him another cryptic smile.

"Well, breakfast will be ready soon," Ianto felt his face begin to flush. Suddenly, it didn't seem so cold outside. "After that, we're opening presents."

"I'll be right in," Jack called after him. He was nearly to the front porch when he felt a sudden nudge on his shoulder accompanied by a soft thwack. His neck grew cold with the edges of little snowflakes. No. he turned upon his heel to face the attacker. What he found was Jack's plain, wide eyed, smiling face.

"You?" he asked.

Jack's smile grew even wider.

Alice and Jax returned, done with their chores.

Silently, they looked from their father to him and back to their father. Without a word Jax dove for the snow and scooped up a double handful that he clapped quickly into a snowball. Then, he launched it hitting his father squarely in the jaw.

Had Jax just defended him?

Seconds later Alice followed suit, only her snowball was launched at Ianto. However, Ianto was ready. He ducked, narrowly missing the lob. Still, the quick motion had taken its toll on Ianto. Both feet slipped out from under him as he lost his balance.

Ianto flailed his arms, trying to regain his balance, but it was too late. He was going down. Then, all of a sudden, he stopped falling. Something had stopped him.

Large hands caught him descent in a firm grip. Ianto looked up to find Jack's sturdy shoulders poised over him. Swiftly, he hoisted him up just as his backside was about to land in the snow.

Ianto dangled there for a moment while the children held their breath and then burst out in laughter. Though his heart was still beating furiously, the humour of the situation hadn't eluded him. How silly he must look! Laughter bubbled up inside him. He glanced up at Jack. His laughter stopped cold. His smile froze.

His eyes were filled with concern. He gave a quick jerk upward and Ianto slammed into his chest. Was that his heart beating so quickly and fast? He didn't have time to test his theory, for Jack immediately pulled away and set him back down on his feet.

"I think we got a little carried away," he murmured into Ianto's ear. His warm breath made his neck tingle. As did his smell, a mix of leather and musk. Ianto was glad his face was turned, for he feared his cheeks were bright red!

"Come on, children!" he said as he stepped back. "Let's go inside for breakfast and see what is under that Christmas tree."

That was all it took to shift the children's attention from the fact that Ianto had momentarily been in Jack's arms. He fidgeted with his cuffs while everyone filed through the door. Unfortunately, merely mentioning Christmas and presents wasn't enough to distract him from Jack's strong embrace. In fact, he feared nothing would.

Still, Ianto couldn't afford to be distracted. If this was to be the perfect Christmas he wanted it to be, he had to focus on his role as host. Jack pulled away from him, following the children. The sudden absence of his touch made him feel unsteady. He looked down at his basket and saw with relief that not one of the eggs he had gathered had broken. He went back inside, putting the snowball play and the memory of being in Jack's arms behind him.

.

.

.

"The house smells wonderful!" Alice said as she took off her coat.

"I can't wait to eat and open presents," Jax cried as he kicked off his boots.

"Must not disappoint the children," Jack leaned over Ianto's shoulder. For some odd reason he could not ignore him when he was so close by.

Ianto hurried to the kitchen and cracked the eggs into a skillet. Alice set the table and Jack and Jax washed their hands. When the eggs were done, Ianto pulled out the hot pinwheels from the stove and put them on a platter along with a pot of butter on to the table. There was a sprig of Holly and a tip from the fir tree's branch in a medicine bottle on the table. Had Alice added that touch of decoration for their table

Ianto watched with pleasure as he saw everyone dig in to the sourdough sweet rolls.

"This is a breakfast feast," Jack said.

"I love these rolls. Even the eggs taste better today!" exclaimed Jax.

"Thank you for the pretty bouquet, Alice. It really shows this is a special occasion," said Ianto.

"I didn't put that on the table," said Alice who gave her father a hard direct look.

"It was me. I thought the table needed a piece of the tree. And I found a sprig of Holly. I thought that was important. So much has changed now you've come to us," Jack said with his head down, which made his eyes seem to peer out at her from beneath his brow.

"I love this sweet bread but I want to open my presents," Jax said in a pleading voice.

"Go ahead, you can take your roll to the tree and open up your present," Ianto said.

Immediately the children scooted out from the table and each grabbed a roll and ran over to squat at the tree. Jax handed Alice a lump of fabric. Alice handed her father two presents. Ianto handed Jax his present. Jack went over to his chair and reached into his reading basket and pulled out a bundle for Ianto. When they were all seated around the tree, each of them began to open their presents.

Alice exclaimed at her darning egg, "Jax, this is just what I needed. Look Ianto! Won't this work well?"

Ianto smiled at both of them. "Jax, that is as fine a darning form as I have ever seen. Yes, that is just the tool that is needed."

Jax opened up his present and immediately put the knitted hat on his head. "Now I'll not have to wear my father's big hat. This one is so much warmer and it fits perfectly!" He gave everyone a smile. "I love it Ianto. Thank you so much."

"There is one more for you, Jax," said Ianto. He handed Jax a small parcel which he quickly unwound.

There was his little mug with a hairline crack down the side and on its handle was a red grosgrain ribbon loop. Jax held it tenderly and then smiled at Ianto.

"It's now an ornament for the tree. In honour of Lucia. Why don't you choose where to hang it?" Ianto suggested.

Jax went right over and stepped up onto the arm of the settee and looped the mug as high as his arm could reach.

Alice walked over and dropped the biggest bundle wrapped in sheeting onto her father's lap. Jack quickly opened it and out spilled all of his wool socks. He held one up and inspected the heel and the toe and said, "Alice! These all are as good as new. Now my toes won't be cold or chaffed by my boots. I have as many socks as any rich man. Thank you."

Alice beamed and gave Ianto a private little wink.

Next, Jack opened his other present and saw his new knitted hat. "Alice, you can knit?"

"Yes," Alice said. "Ianto taught me."

Jack was astounded. "What wonders you have learned. I will wear your hat every day!"

"You don't have to wear it when it's hot out," Alice piped up.

"Ianto. You haven't opened up your present," Jax said.

"It's your turn," Alice said.

Ianto unwrapped his bundle and the most luxurious soft white fur fell in his lap. It was the pelt from the snowshoe rabbit.

"Oh, this is the most beautiful thing I have ever received. It is gloriously soft and supple," Ianto exclaimed.

"It is a muff! And it's from all of us," Alice cried out.

"I shot the rabbit and father tanned it," Jax said.

"I fashioned it into a muff," said Alice. "At first I was going to make it into a hat and use my head as a model."

"That would have been alright since I have a small head," laughed Ianto.

"But there wasn't time. I've noticed that your hands get cold so I made it into a muff and I used the whole pelt," said Alice.

Ianto slipped his hands into the muff. "It feels divine. I can't decide whether I want my hands to be warm or whether I just want to touch the softness outside. I love it. Thank you, all of you. This is the sweetest Christmas present I've ever received," Ianto blinked and smiled at every one.

Alice beamed, looking so youthful and so beautiful.

Ianto remembered with a surprise that his first impression of Alice was that the girl seemed older than her age. Her rigid expression was replaced with animation. She was no longer afraid to show joy and hold back her laughter.

Ianto then regarded Jax and his toothy smile. He wore his new red knitted hat, it fit his head perfectly and even complimented his freckles.

Lastly, he looked to Jack. His face was flushed with warmth that seemed to embrace and infect everyone around him. It was an expression he could never have imagined when he first met him. He had been so stiff and cold. When had he become the warm hub of this happy family?

Jack met Ianto's gaze. "There's one last present," he said, "though you won't find it under the tree."

Ianto was speechless. What could he mean? He looked to the children, but they seemed just as stupefied as he was.

"Jack?"she asked. "I don't understand, where would it be?"

His grin deepened, and although he felt uncertain, something about the kind look in his eyes made his heart feel at ease. He trusted Jack. He had faith in him.

"Come on everyone!" he said. "Back outside!"

The children leaped up. Excitement buzzed around the small room as though all of a sudden everyone realized that anything was possible. It was Christmas day and there was one more present. Ianto couldn't help but get caught up in the mystery of it.

Jack came over and offered Ianto his hand. "Come on, Ianto," he said. "It's your present. If you don't come outside with us, then all of my work is for naught."

Ianto accepted his hand and allowed Jack to pull him to his feet. Those happy, floaty feelings he'd felt earlier during the snow fight returned. He was so close, but this time he wasn't pushing him away. He felt like he was pulling him closer. His heart felt open.

Jack let go of Ianto only to hand him his cloak. Then, he knelt and placed Lucia's boots on his feet. Ianto had never been the recipient of such royal treatment, and he didn't know what to do with himself.

The children knew, however. They danced around them, telling them to hurry up. They wanted to know what the surprise was waiting outside even more than Ianto did.

"Alright, alright!" he laughed as the children ushered him outside. To them, he couldn't get out the door fast enough.

Ianto stumbled on the porch. When he looked out into the yard, his breath caught in his throat. There was Buck. A wreath of evergreen was on his bridle. Two more wreaths decorated the sides of the cart, each tied with a bright red ribbon. As if aware of all the admiration he was receiving, Buck lowered his head and raised one front hoof, creating a picture reminiscent of a Christmas steed pulling a sleigh.

"Oh my," Ianto said, bringing his hand to his chest. "When did you do all this?"

"While you were making breakfast," Jack said. Then, he stepped forward off the porch. When his boots reached the snow, he turned and raised his hand to Ianto, silently asking him to take it.

He stood still, unable to process what was happening.

"Come on, Ianto," he said. "Haven't we got somewhere to go? What do you say?"

"Where are we going?" Ianto asked.

He gave him a handsome, comforting smile. "Wherever you want."

Ianto's heart began to ache. Did this mean? No, he couldn't possibly mean that. Jack Harkness had told him himself that he wanted nothing to do with the church or the Smiths. They reminded him too much of Lucia as they had been her friends.

"Where do you want to go, Ianto?" he asked.

"Yeah, where are we going?" Alice piped in.

"I want to know too!" Jax exclaimed.

Ianto opened his eyes. Though it was cold, he had to blink several times to keep them dry.

"Jack, don't ask me this," she begged.

"Why?" he asked.

"Because, you told me not to mention it…You told me…"

"It doesn't matter what I said before," Jack reassured him. "This is my true Christmas gift to you. I want to take you where you want to go. Anywhere you want to go."

Ianto shut his eyes and hugged his chest. Was he truly giving him license to say it?

"The Smiths," he whispered. "I want to go to the Smiths."

He waited for the reprimand. For the cold shoulder.

For the regret. It did not come. When he opened his eyes, Jack was smiling at him just as he had before. No, actually his smile was even sweeter than it had been.

There was a new softness in his eyes.

Jack laughed. "This is Ianto's Christmas present. Come on, everyone! Get into the cart. We're going to visit your aunt and uncle!"


	8. the greatest gift is love

The sun was just coming up over the ridge as Jack snapped the reins and sent Buck on his way toward town. They were all bundled together under a coverlet. Alice nestled between Ianto and Jack while Jax sat on Ianto's lap.

Ianto grabbed Alice's near hand and pulled it into the muff along with his. Then Ianto gave Alice's hand a squeeze. Ianto readjusted the coverlet and rearranged his arms to hold Jax comfortably. Even though he was a bit heavy, and he worried that his legs would go numb under his weight, Ianto wouldn't have it any other way. Buck's sturdy hooves made a steady clopping sound as he drew them over the pristine white country road. The world felt soft and crisp and dreamy white. They were warm and huddled together beneath the coverlet. He clopped over the perfect dusting of snow that covered the landscape. Ianto realized it felt perfect because they were a family.

Ianto looked over at Jack. What did he think about this jam of bodies all riding on the bench together? He couldn't tell, for his husband just stared straight ahead. Clicking his tongue, he kept Buck going at a steady brisk pace. He was focused on getting them to their destination on time.

When they arrived at church the lot was nearly full with other wagons and carriages. Most were drawn with horses, but some with mules and oxen. Others came on foot. It didn't matter how they had arrived, or whether their conveyance was humble or grand. The important thing was that they were here.

At the entrance, men tipped their hats and women nodded and spoke warm greetings. Even Jack greeted the man who stood at the entrance. "Good morning, Deacon Harper."

The deacon returned Jack's hello with the same friendly nod he gave everyone. As soon as they entered, it was obvious that the church was nearly full. Still, Jack was able to find a pew with space enough for them all. He stood aside as Jax then Alice then Ianto filed in. Jack himself took the seat next to the aisle.

Ianto breathed in deeply. The air was lightly scented with beeswax, sap, and evergreens. The hymnals were numbered on the dark weathered wood walls. The altar was simply decorated with candles set among pine and fir boughs that encircled a pine cradle. Stationed above the raised pulpit, the wooden cross was also framed by fir boughs.

The chatter soon quieted to murmurs. A few coughed. Some people shuffled to get comfortably settled. Ianto did not have to wait long for pastor Smith's arrival. He came forward and raised his arms for all to stand and said, "I invite you all to stand and give thanks to the Gods with me."

Pastor Smith was not as old as Ianto had first thought and his voice was mellow but not strong. Those at the back strained to hear some of what he said to the congregation. He was a good man and, especially on this auspicious day, Ianto was disposed to think well of all things with his family alongside him.

The Pastor's wife River was seated at the organ and then saw the family, her face lighting up with her hands going to her chest as she looked at the sweet family. Then she shakily turned to begin the music. Ianto smiled as he heard Alice's voice once again.

Cautiously so Alice would not see, Ianto nudged Jack.

When he caught his attention, he tilted his head over to indicate Alice. Jack seemed to understand what he meant. He gave him the warmest smile. Ianto remembered their almost embrace. His voice wavered but he managed to keep singing. When the song was finished they sat back in the pew.

Ianto turned to Alice and whispered to her, "I love hearing you sing. You have the voice of an angel."

"Really?" Alice whispered.

Ianto nodded, for Pastor Smith was about to speak, and he had no intention of disturbing the service. Then, they all stood again for a reading but the Pastor broke protocol by saying "I give thanks for my family today … for the first time in a while, we are all together. "

Ianto felt something touch his hand. He looked down to see Jack's hand and watched as his fingers intertwined with his. When he looked up at his face, he was focused entirely on Pastor Smith.

"In a time of sorrow or sadness, we must remember that another day will dawn. Here, on Christmas Day we remember the land of our ancestors and their dreams, desires and strength that has brought us across the stars. The brightest one of all … that of our own heart" Pastor Smith continued. "And so we know and rely on the love one another has for us. There is no fear in love, for perfect love casts out fear."

Ianto squeezed Jack's hand, and he squeezed his back. Ianto's eyes began to water as he realized what was happening. Jack was allowing love back into his heart. Pastor Smith's clear voice seemed to celebrate this development. "As we celebrate this day, I ask you to celebrate your love for one another."

People filed out of the church. River called out softly to Ianto and Jack "Please stay for kind words afterwards. The cookies are ready, please Jackson."

Many gave the Harkness family a friendly look and tried to catch their eye. They nodded to Ianto and then to Jack. Some greeted him by name. Ianto wondered why Jack hadn't stood up and led them out of the church. But he seemed determined to stay.

Finally, he turned to Alice and Jax and said, "You children go on outside. I have something I wish to say to your Tad."

Alice and Jax looked at each other. Alice giggled, "Come on. Let's go get cookies next door at Uncle's house."

"Cookies?" Jax's ears perked up.

Alice rolled her eyes. "Were you not listening? Aunty said there are cookies next door!"

"Yes, let's go!" Jax agreed, taking his sister's hand. Ianto watched them go but did not follow. Jack's hand gripped his tightly, and he knew he needed to hear whatever it was he wanted to say. Finally, the last few people filed out of the church, leaving them alone.

.

.

.

The pews were cramped and made sure there was little space between them. Jack's knee bumped against his as he turned to face him. He looked searchingly into his eyes and said with a very serious voice, "Ianto, I need to ask your permission to change our agreement."

Ianto stiffened. Did he want to send him away? Did he bring him here to soften the blow?

"No," he blurted out. "Please don't change anything. I'm very happy with our agreement. I am happy to have a home and to be Tad of your children. We had a bargain."

He squeezed his hand once again. "But love cannot be bargained for."

Ianto's poor little heart felt as pitiful as a shattered stained glass window. His eyes filled with tears that threatened to spill.

"Please," he whispered, "I know what you are trying to do, and I cannot abide by it."

Jack looked crestfallen. "You can't?"

"No, I can't," Ianto said. "Our agreement means so much to me. I could not stand it if things changed."

Jack's jaw tightened. He looked down. "Is that really what you want?"

"Yes!" Ianto exclaimed. "And I think Jax and Alice would agree with me. At least, I hope they would. We have grown so close and been through so much these past few weeks."

"Yes, that's why this change is necessary," Jack said. "My children want what I want, I guarantee it."

Ianto's broken heart shattered into a million pieces. No.

Alice and Jax too? Alice had called him Taddy just the other night, and Jax had protected him during the snowball fight. He had to mean something to them, didn't he? They meant so much to him.

No, they meant everything.

Ianto closed his eyes and bit his lower lip, struggling not to sob. Tears now flowed freely down his cheeks. He didn't know if he could survive this. He'd come so far and gotten so close. To have it all pulled out from under him, and on Christmas, the very day when love and forgiveness and family were celebrated, was too much. He could not bring himself to look at his face, so he stared at the hymn board instead. The numbers were bleary and out of focus.

"Please," he whispered. "Please, Jack. Do not send me away."

"Send you away?" Jack yelled.

Was that surprise in his voice? Ianto looked over to see Jack's face twisted with confusion. Did he dare to hope? Could his heart handle it? Yes, he decided. Yes, it could handle anything for love and family.

"You don't want to send me away?" Ianto guessed.

"Of course not!" Jack declared. "I want you to be my mate."

Ianto's mouth fell open. "What?"

"This isn't going the way I expected. Let me try again," Jack ran his free hand through his hair.

Ianto sat silently, not daring to speak.

Jack took a deep breath. "I need to tell you how I feel. After Lucia died, I vowed never to love another woman. However, I did this for myself. I know she would have wanted me to love again. She was not the kind of person who wanted anyone to close off their heart. In fact, she was very much like you in that way. Perhaps that is part of the reason why you have so thoroughly breached my defences."

Ianto's throat was so full he could barely breathe.

"I have watched how the children have taken to you. How much you have to offer them. How much you have to offer everyone. You are the kind of man who deserves love and, most of all, the kind of man I want to love. No, that's not it … the kind of man I can't help but love." He gripped his hands and brought them to his chest so he could feel his swiftly beating heart. "I didn't want this love, Ianto. I didn't want you. But now, I can't imagine living without you or living with you without loving you. I know this isn't what you signed up for, so I must ask. Ianto, we are already married, but will you become my mate?"

"Are you proposing to me?" he whispered. Ianto couldn't believe his ears.

"Yes. I am. I'm proposing to you in the way I should have proposed to you the first time. Unfortunately it sometimes takes me a few tries to get something right."

Ianto thought that the pew beneath him had fallen away. He felt a sudden dizziness and disorientation. But a feeling deeper than either of those things took hold of his heart. His deepest wish was coming true. Loving light cut through his confusion, leading him towards an answer and towards what he knew his true purpose in life to be.

"Yes," he said through his tears. "Yes. Yes. Yes. There is nothing I want more on this earth."

Then, Jack pulled him into his arms. "Thank you," he said as if he had just given him the best Christmas gift he could have ever given him. And perhaps he had, but he had given him something even more beautiful.

A Christmas miracle.

Jack's kiss was like the final binding together, the warmth flowing between them seemed to fulfil something inside Ianto that he didn't' even know was empty.

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Ianto and Jack walked hand in hand out of the church into a bright and sunny snow-covered outdoors. His eyes rimmed with unshed tears and his heart sang inside his chest.

He glanced at his husband to find that he was smiling too. He could see no trace of anger or resentment in his heart. He looked free.

"Is that Jax and Alice?" Jack asked as two little ones rushed towards them across the snow.

"Ah, it looks like they found my wife's cookies," Pastor Smith said.

"That doesn't surprise me," Jack muttered good naturedly. "She does cook well."

"Come for Boxing Day Dinner ... I know yor first Christmas should be in your dwelling but .. tomorrow. Come sup with us?" Pastor Smith asked.

Jack nodded, agreed and Ianto felt as well as saw the delight in the pastor's face as he looked at his brother-in-law with relief.

The children were upon them mere seconds later, cookies in one hand and a mug of hot apple cider in the other.

Alice looked back and forth from Ianto to her father, "Something is different about you two," she said.

Ianto blushed. His husband, however, did not have any shred of embarrassment about telling them. "I proposed to Ianto and he agreed to be my mate as well as being your Tad."

"You're our real Tad now?" Jax asked, his little voice rose higher and he gave Ianto a shy smile.

"I am. You will still have your angel mother but I will be your tad on earth. From now until death do us part," Ianto replied. He looked over to Alice whose face wore a buttoned up smile. "I am your tad too, Alice. I already love the two of you more than my heart can contain."

Alice, however, did not look upset. Instead, she exclaimed, "We got a Taddy for Christmas!"

Ianto wasn't able to contain himself any longer. He spread out his arms and grabbed them both into an embrace, nearly spilling the hot cider. Alice dropped one cookie into the snow.

Immediately, Ianto picked it up and blew off the snow, "Good as new."

"No, it is better for getting a cookie kiss from my Taddy," Alice said.

Jack smiled with pride. "Come on, all of you. Buck wants to get back home to his feedbag and the shelter of the barn. A farmer's family always seems to have more chores than hands to get everything done. I'll bet Janet is looking forward to her hot mash."

Ianto laughed and walked between the children, one arm around each of them. Jack helped him into the wagon. Jax climbed in and sat on his lap. Alice sat in the middle. Jack covered them all in the quilt and walked around and picked up the reins, clicked with his tongue and soon Buck and the wagon got underway.

Ianto was so saturated with the events of the day that he just sat back and relished in the peace and comfort of inclusion. He realized with a start that this was a feeling he would become accustomed to. But no matter how used to it he became, he would never cease being grateful.

Once home there were chores to do, just as Jack had promised. The heaping measure of Ianto's anticipation of Christmas morning had not even begun to meet the yield of blessings bestowed upon the family by Christmas evening.

Jack brought in a plucked partridge that he had shot and cleaned the day before. He helped Ianto prepare and roast it in the oven. Alice peeled potatoes and carrots.

Jax fed the pigs and freshened Janet's stall. All the chores were done like clockwork, as though everyone had practiced their part to perfection. Before he knew it, they were all seated.

Ianto looked around the table. Jax's face was bright and pink and full of good cheer as he took a bite of pheasant. Alice's face was glowing. Jack looked open and serene. His face was still strong and lean but it no longer looked carved out of wood. His eyes were alight with warmth. Their Christmas dinner was the sweetest, richest, most wonderful meal that he could ever remember.

There was roasted pheasant on the table with family all around, a marriage that was no longer something bargained for but something earned as well as freely given.

For Ianto, it had required patience and bravery. For Jack's part, it had demanded that he relinquish his anger towards everyone and open his heart to love another again.

As the evening came closer to the end the children did the washing up happily while Ianto and Jack stood in the soft glow of the firelight, Jack's kiss was the first of many to come. The bed folded back with both sides turned to one side.

And Ianto knew he had finally found what he had always sought.

A family for Christmas.

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The end.


End file.
